


our idiots' eden

by bluetint, forochel, gyeomtriever (yerims), honeyandcream, JJPRoundRobin, kimwonpil, minhyukie (thelogicoftaste), rainbowbrown, serendipitee, subsequence, Sugarbowl, that_yellow_umbrella



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Mystery, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 43,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetint/pseuds/bluetint, https://archiveofourown.org/users/forochel/pseuds/forochel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerims/pseuds/gyeomtriever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyandcream/pseuds/honeyandcream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJPRoundRobin/pseuds/JJPRoundRobin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimwonpil/pseuds/kimwonpil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelogicoftaste/pseuds/minhyukie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowbrown/pseuds/rainbowbrown, https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarbowl/pseuds/Sugarbowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_yellow_umbrella/pseuds/that_yellow_umbrella
Summary: Jinyoung walked lightly along the path. "'Tis useful — nothing dangerous around here, then.""Other than us.""Well" — wry humour lent aridity to Jinyoung's tone — "that's a bit of a given, isn't it?"➴or, one year after their infamous brawl, Hunters Im and Park are forced together to unravel the mystery behind a series of missing children.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 27
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this work is part of a round-robin collective project, featuring eleven writers. there will be some allusions to kidnapping and all the horrors that come with that.
> 
> The title is taken (and modified) from the always excellent Parade's End, by Ford Maddox Ford: "Higher than the beasts, lower than the angels: stuck between the two in our idiots' Eden. God, I'm so bored of it all, guarding or granting permission to a temple no decent butcher would give room to on his offal tray. I'd rather be a cow in a field ..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [forochel:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forochel/pseuds/forochel)
> 
> it's been so long since I wrote this it feels like a stranger did! thanks to bysine & unconscious for giving this ye olde once-over, and massive props to thelogicoftaste for carrying out this herculean feat of organisation. thanks for all the fish, friends, and I hope you enjoyed.

➶

"Merciful Boddhisattva." Jinyoung cast a beseeching look up at the newly green saplings through which early spring sunshine dappled. "What did I do to deserve being saddled with you? Who did I offend in my past life?"

More likely than not Jinyoung had offended someone in all his lives current and past, and racked up enough of an imbalance for it to spill over into Jaebeom's own karmic ledger.

"Watch your step," Jaebeom grunted. The ground was slippery still from post-winter melt and rain earlier in the day; the fallen leaves from last autumn had softened but were not yet dissolved into the humus. "Or don't. I'm cremating you on the spot if you break your neck."

Somewhere in the trees, a wagtail started singing. _Tsi-feeee, tsi-feeee._

"Spring's come early. They hadn't arrived this time last year." Jinyoung walked lightly along the path. "'Tis useful — nothing dangerous around here, then."

"Other than us."

"Well" — wry humour lent aridity to Jinyoung's tone — "that's a bit of a given, isn't it?"

Jaebeom was about to point out that it was also a given, or should be a given, for seasoned hunters to not rely overmuch on but one sign, when rising from somewhere to the west came the long clear warning _pyuuuuuu_ of a vigilant plover. They both paused to look off in that direction.

"It could just be a fox," said Jinyoung, before Jaebeom could marshal his thoughts. "Or a gumiho."

"We wanted to find water," Jaebeom said tersely. "We know now there's water nearby. And a gumiho isn't necessarily better than a water wight."

"Oh, Hunter Im." Jinyoung dismissively flicked his wrist in that infuriatingly elegant way he had. "You and your petty little prejudices."

"It's not prejudice if it's _true_ ." Jaebeom hated how Jinyoung said things, and behaved as though they were the only unimpeachable truth. There was no such thing as _just_ a gumiho, or _just_ a water wight. 

Jinyoung gave him a long look, before shaking his head dismissively. "Well, we had better go look, either way."

The undergrowth was thick on this trail they'd taken out of the village just after sunrise. It had started out fairly well-worn from many generations of villagers treading it into a clear path, laid with stones until the first glade in which the mountain-folk gathered to prepare their herbs and hunts. This far into the forest, though, it narrowed considerably. 

Inhaling low and slow, Jaebeom shut his eyes briefly and willed his temper back down. "Further up ahead, it's lighter. We can bear west from there, I think."

They had been padding quietly for a while, the undergrowth thinning to ferns with curly, lacy fronds growing out of a carpet of starbust lichen freshly green as the canopy above. The sturdy mountain ashes, bark smooth and grey, stood tall and proud amongst the firs and — Jaebeom's favourite — the silvery birches, too, were giving way slowly to water-loving maple and alder. 

"Ah," Jinyoung said softly, coming to a halt. "Here?" 

Off to their right was an opening in the undergrowth; it was one of those natural gaps in plant cover that so inexplicably and harmoniously occurred, for inconspicuous, sharp-smelling sorrel to grow in the gaps. Jaebeom nodded, and gestured for Jinyoung to lead.

"Not all life has been scared away," Jaebeom observed. Ferns brushed gently against his calves, some reaching high enough to mid-thigh. Underfoot, the forest floor was springy and gave off sweet herbaceous smells undercut by the fresh scent of plant mulch. Signs of a mid-sized creature's passing were there for knowing eyes to see: leaves brushed out of joint, droppings in a cluster under a fern. More than one, perhaps.

"As the plover told us."

Jaebeom sighed and let his fingernails cut into his palms; better his own flesh than anything else.

"It would be curious for a gumiho to be at the heart of the village's troubles," said Jinyoung a few moments later. "This isn't the kind of mischief they usually cause."

"Not children," agreed Jaebeom. "No. But who knows what might come into the heart of one?" 

"At least you acknowledge that they have hearts," Jinyoung said drily. 

Stung, Jaebeom was a little louder than he intended, "I never—!"

"Hush, Hunter Im," chided Jinyoung, in exactly the sort of condescending tone that had seen them brawling in an inn just over a year ago. Not coincidentally, that was also the last time they had seen each other before this entire undertaking. 

"Not everyone," Jaebeom said, quick and low, "thinks it wise to consort so closely with the very creatures we _hunt_." 

Jinyoung's spine stiffened visibly ahead of him. "I don't — do you really think all spirits deserve to be hunted? The fertility spirits? The house protectors? Those who look after our ancestors' graves?" 

"That's not what I mean and you know it." 

"Of all the stiff-necked idiots in this land —" 

"— the _strictures_ exist for a _reason_ —" 

"— I use all the resources available to me, that's — "

"— you create dangerous obligations for yourself," countered Jaebeom. 

"Why" — Jinyoung whipped around, exasperation writ clear in every line of his body — "must you insist on thinking _every single fay creature_ dangerous?"

Jaebeom stared at him. And then deliberately did a scan of their surroundings. 

"It's my job." He shouldered past Jinyoung to take the lead, half because they'd never get anywhere at this pace, and half because he was tired of looking at Jinyoung's back. "Right mind, right action."

Behind him, Jinyoung let out a strangled noise. "You think I haven't read the sutras? What you're doing is literally _not_ what it means." 

"What do I do?" Jaebeom held aside a stray branch and stepped over a fallen log. "What is it that you think that I do that you do not also do? This is our livelihood. We are commissioned to hunt only those who are causing harm."

Blessed silence, for long enough that the low roar in his ears and the itching violence under his skin, always so hard to contain, could subside. The mountain trees were largely replaced by the maples and alders here; the undergrowth had also changed subtly. The air, too, smelt less of leaves and fresh mulch. More importantly: the absence of any near birdsong at all; that had died out many paces ago. The plover was either dead or flown elsewhere. 

"Every commission that I have taken," Jaebeom said quietly, and as evenly as he could. This close to an encounter, he did not want to be distracted by quarrelling with Jinyoung. But he could not let this lie either. "Has been because someone has been taken, or killed, or — worse. It would be foolish of me not to take every precaution, not to anticipate the worst." 

"I do. I have _met_ with the worst." Jinyoung returned equally quietly. "But that doesn't mean that there is only one way to do things." 

Jaebeom only shook his head in response and held up a hand. 

The lake was close by; he could hear the wind on the water, the waves lapping against pebbly shores. Tension hung in the air, as though the forest were holding its breath. Jinyoung came up close behind him. His breath stirred the small hairs at the nape of his neck; Jaebeom could never bind those up with the rest of his hair. 

By mutual, unspoken agreement, they crept quietly through the ferns and trees. After about ten minutes, Jaebeom stiffened. 

It seemed Jinyoung had spoken true: if there were a water wight, likely it was not alone. 

He glanced back. Jinyoung's brows had drawn together. Jinyoung met his eyes, and nodded. He smelt the same thing.

Jaebeom drew his throwing dagger; Jinyoung loosened his sword. 

Through the trees, the lake was visible: a vast silvery-bowl mirror surrounded on three sides by forest and, far away to the northwest, vanguarded by tall grey mountains that seemed to cut straight into the water. Its surface was ruffled by the wind. At least it blew towards them, carrying the smell of iron and ozone undercut by an unsettling musk.

They drew closer, truly padding as silently as they could over young grass — the mess of lichen and moss underfoot had given way to these slick blades — and paused at the edge of tree cover behind a wide, tall stand of white forsythia. Not so much white this early in spring as green, in truth.

A figure in fine robes crouched over another on the shore — the body laid out on the grass was dressed in plainer ones: the rough-spun, block-dyed cloth of a villager. 

Jaebeom held his breath and prayed; next to him Jinyoung was so still he wondered if he'd been caught in some sort of stasis trap.

But no — no trap, but also no luck.

"I was having my _supper_." The gumiho rose to its feet and shook its robes back into place. It drew the back of a hand across its mouth; its hand came away glistening red. 

Next to Jaebeom, Jinyoung stifled a noise, rather like a kettle starting to boil over. 

The fox tilted its head curiously. At present moment, it was too far away to see clearly. Cool air ruffled its black hair, the red fur of its ears. Its tails weren't out, but that didn't mean much.

"I know this one," Jinyoung muttered, with murder in his voice.

"So you do, little hunter," called the fox, sauntering towards them. Jaebeom did not like this at all: the ease with which it was treating being caught alone by two hunters. He did not like that they didn't know how many tails the spirit had. And most of all, he did not like how Jinyoung, already so unpredictable in the best of times, had been set even further off-kilter. "Well met — how many years has it been since? You look less stringy, now." 

Next to Jaebeom, Jinyoung trembled.

Even on all the occasions past when they'd butted heads, he'd never seen Jinyoung's tinder catch quite this fast before. 

"Jinyoung," Jaebeom said under his breath. "How many fucking tails did this one have when you ... met?" 

Jinyoung didn't spare him a glance. "Four." 

"We can — " 

"— _murder_ an innocent fox?" The _gumiho_ sighed and held its arms out. "Well, I suppose that's what your trade is, and you need to eat, et cetera et cetera. I understand that much, I suppose. After all, I'm _always_ hungry." 

"Innocent," said Jinyoung, "is hardly a word that would suffer you."

And here Jaebeom had thought that particular acidity had been a delight reserved solely for him. He should've felt hurt; instead he was worried. This was not the time for Jinyoung to be unfooted so.

The gumiho stopped halfway to them, standing at ease on the grass, hip cocked. Atop its head, its ears twitched. 

"Do come out from behind that bush, Master Hunters. You're going to eventually, anyway." 

Jinyoung shifted.

"Really?" hissed Jaebeom, gripping him by the bicep.

Jinyoung shot him a hard look. "There really is no point." 

"Well? If you're going to interrupt my supper, you ought at least have the good —" 

"Fuck's sake!" Jinyoung shook Jaebeom's restraining hand off and burst out from behind the shrubbery. "You just murdered a ma—" 

Almost too fast for Jaebeom's eyes to track, but certainly too fast for him to raise any defence, the gumiho flicked its fingers at them.

The world froze, or at least Jinyoung did. He was going to fall over whenever the binding wore off, awkwardly caught as he was mid-landing. 

Unease crept through Jaebeom's veins; it took a lot of power to execute a stasis binding so finely and subtly: power and control. Birds still called in the far distance; the leaves still rustled in the gentle breeze off the mountain; and the lake still rolled against its grassy sloping shore. 

"Such bad manners," murmured the gumiho seemingly to itself. Seemingly. Jaebeom hardly dared breathe. "Bad form, and in bad faith. That's justification enough, isn't it?" 

Was the gumiho baiting him? Did it _know_ that he hadn't been caught in its spell?

It ambled towards the forsythia bush that separated Jaebeom from Jinyoung's frozen figure.

Of all the stupid, impulsive things to have done, bad history or not — _this_ was why Jaebeom had been thrown together with Jinyoung for this commission. 

"Oh, he has grown up well," the gumiho marvelled, its head canting to one side as it contemplated Jinyoung. "Goodness. What a pity." 

Jaebeom closed his eyes, centered himself, and in a burst of motion — just as the gumiho bared its teeth and raised its ears — swung himself around the bush and flung his dagger at the fox.

The fox's tails — _six_ of them, damn Jinyoung — materialised abruptly, whipping through the air and batting Jaebeom's attempt to the ground.

"Well." The gumiho turned in its path towards Jinyoung; its eyes gleamed. Delight? Amusement? Anger? No — Jaebeom did not sense anger. He wasn't sure amusement was much better. "Well, well, well. I know who _you_ are, then." 

Stiffly, Jaebeom said, "It seems my fame precedes me." 

The gumiho yipped with laughter, head flung back. "I'd heard of the halfling child who hates his own blood. Does it really burn within you? Sounds unpleasant."

Jaebeom shifted his weight. A water wight would have been easier to deal with. He hated the double-speaking ways of these fox spirits. "That would likely be poetic licence." 

"Oh." The gumiho blinked, and extracted a pipe from its sleeve. It tapped the pipe against its wrist; the thing lit itself up. "I took this up when I gained my fifth tail, you know," it said conversationally. "Seemed like the thing to do." 

There were occasions like this, in his line of work, when one had to talk one's way through an assassination. Jaebeom hated them. Especially when he hadn't actually been commissioned for an assassination. He wasn't even sure if the gumiho was their target. Most of all, gumiho weren't usually this chatty, the ones he'd encountered before. They certainly weren't _after_.

"Is that so," said Jaebeom flatly. 

Casting him an amused look, the gumiho took a puff. "Not a talkative one, are you? But your friend over there ..." It exhaled a cloud of smoke. Heavy with moisture as the air was in the wake of the morning's passing shower, the smoke hung like a misty veil, blue and grey and a tint of not-quite-here. 

"We are not friends," said Jaebeom tersely. His hands flexed uselessly by his side. Jinyoung was not his friend, but over the past few weeks of tracking and sniping at each other, their mutual enmity had been dampened. 

The _gumiho_ raised a dark eyebrow and drifted in that deceptively languorous way they all had over the sodden turf to Jinyoung. "No? Then I suppose you wouldn't mind overmuch if I —" 

Jaebeom had his sword out of his scabbard and was in front of Jinyoung before conscious thought even had the opportunity to cross his mind. 

"—ah, I see." Tapping the pipe against its lips, the _gumiho_ hummed thoughtfully. "In fact, I do see. That speed! So much untapped potential. Are you _quite_ sure you want to be a hunter?"

It was definitely toying with him. 

"Your kind have tried this before," Jaebeom told him.

"Well, I'd so hate to waste all of ... this." This time, as the gumiho gestured at Jaebeom, its claws gleamed in the lowering sun. 

With Jinyoung's slightly hypocritical criticism still fresh in his mind, Jaebeom tried — at least so he could say that he _had._ "We could go our separate ways." He nodded at the body behind the gumiho. "Who is that?"

The gumiho barked out another laugh. "Oh no, you might be so reasonable, but I'm afraid your ... ah, not-friend will not be." Its sharp eyes surveyed him, before its lips curled in an ironic smile, as though inviting him in on a joke. "We have a bit of a past, as you may have surmised."

Oh, this gumiho was _dangerous_. 

"I have a duty," Jaebeom said. "And an obligation."

"Oh, these all-too-human things," sighed the fox spirit. It lipped the pipe into its mouth so it dangled insouciantly out of one corner. "Why do you let yourself be encumbered so?"

"I _am_ human." Jaebeom shifted a foot behind himself, turned it out. "I choose to be so." 

Exhaling smoke through its nose, the gumiho sighed long and low, shaking its head in mock-sorrow. "That isn't a possible choice, but I think you know it. But, well, if so you are determined to choose, then —" with a flash, the pipe disappeared. 

The fox spirit came on in a whirl of teeth and claws and battering tails, casting nasty corrosive spells left and right, and frustratingly flicking away any kind of binding Jaebeom flung at it.

He forced it back to the shore; it slashed at his neck; he turned the strike aside with his sword and tried another binding, only to have it batted away carelessly as the gumiho grinned at him mockingly. He pivoted, leaping over its attempt to gash his thigh with its free hand, and caught it in the side with the flat of his sword.

"Oh, you —" it hissed, a grimace crossing its face. 

Then they were locked together again, his sword caught in its claws and straining between them, when all of a sudden the gumiho yielded enough to twist and kick out; Jaebeom's leg buckled and he staggered, eyes wide as the gumiho bore his sword arm down with one arm and slashed down at his face with one freed hand.

At the crucial moment, a dagger came whizzing past, so close it almost shaved off some of Jaebeom's hair.

The _gumiho_ snarled and shook its claws free, kicking him further off balance.

Jaebeom hit the ground with a roll, but by the time he rose to his knees, Jinyoung was holding the gumiho off; his forearm wrappings were already stained red. Of course, he wouldn't be able to entirely keep up with how fast the gumiho was moving. He was — Jaebeom suddenly felt utterly tired — only human. 

Only human, but determined enough to shake off a binding cast on him by a six-tailed gumiho.

"You've _grown_ ," said gumiho told Jinyoung, sing-song. "Are you sure we can't come to an —" 

Jinyoung kneed it in the stomach then went low, ducking away from the answering swipe. His sword was still in its scabbard; he must not have had time to draw it. 

This time, Jaebeom didn't bother with trying for another binding spell — he hurled one of the fox spirit's own corrosive spells at it, only for it to be caught and batted away again by a tail. This time, the tail looked a little singed.

"Oh, you're still here?" At least it sounded winded. 

"Don't look down on me," snarled Jaebeom, and charged towards it. 

He'd never fought with Jinyoung before, not like this, not as partners in a dance so deadly and fast against a creature older than them combined, fast and wily and powerful. There was only the slash and the parry, the duck and desperate breath, for the next few heartbeats.

Then — for a split second — the gumiho left its flank open. 

Jaebeom slashed up and across, dirty and desperate.

It howled and staggered back, eyes wide and face pale, red ears flattened against its skull. 

"Now!" he yelled.

Jinyoung lunged and slapped the binding seal that he'd been charging against the gumiho's neck. 

The gumiho gasped and collapsed onto its side.

Jaebeom stepped in, sword held high, and — 

"Wait." 

With some effort, Jaebeom stayed the downward swing of his sword.

"He could help us." 

"Help you?" The gumiho's eyes went wide, its — _his_ voice modulating higher. "When you interrupted my repast? Only to _wound_ me?" 

"That's a villager. Not … repast."

"And a nuisance to anyone — or anything that caught his eyes." It shrugged despite its bonds. "I didn't think anyone would miss him. The women certainly wouldn't." 

"How very kind of you," snapped Jinyoung. 

What, Jaebeom wondered drily to himself, happened to those _petty little prejudices_ Jinyoung had been condescending to him about. 

"I do my best," said the fox spirit humbly. A smile played about his mouth. "Now, how are you going to convince me?" 

Jaebeom could feel his own hackles rise; he was reminded forcibly of his teacher, setting ever more complex problems for a younger Jaebeom to solve.

Incredulously, he started, "We have you at _swordspoint_ —" 

"— I'm sure we'll find something," growled Jinyoung. 

"You bear such grudges for someone with such a fleeting life. That can't be healthy." 

"Pretending to care?" Jinyoung sneered. "Thought you'd got tired of that one." 

A look other than the arch amusement that Jaebeom had become accustomed to crossed the gumiho's face. It looked a little like — regret, but that was too human an emotion. It made something itch in Jaebeom's chest. 

"You presume very much, little hunter." 

In answer, Jinyoung did _something_ with his binding spell — Jaebeom winced as he felt the spillover; that was something Jinyoung had learnt from his less meet contacts, Jaebeom would wager. 

The gumiho's face spasmed a little, but there was new wonder and something a little like respect on his face when he looked at Jinyoung. "Fine, but let my hands free, I'm getting a crick in my neck." 

"Swear on your tails." 

Said tails lashed a bit.

"Or," said Jinyoung deliberately, "you could swear on —"

The tails stilled, and the fox's face went so cold and blank Jaebeom felt fear for the first time in this entire encounter. What in the eighteen hells did Jinyoung have to do with this fox in the past? A contact? Had they made a deal? Had they — it didn't bear thinking. 

"I swear on my five tails—"

"— six," Jaebeom cut in. "We can count."

" _Six_ tails" — the gumiho rolled his eyes — "that I won't try to maim you or eat you, not that I'd want to; you both look very unpleasantly tough and _his_ heart" — he nodded at Jinyoung — "would give me indigestion ... or revenge myself for any of this ... indignity. In the next day and night." 

Jaebeom frowned and opened his mouth.

"Fine." Jinyoung loosened his binding spell. "Where's this lake's wight?"

"Was there a water wight?" Jaebeom asked over the top of him. Jinyoung glared.

"Yes." The gumiho pressed a hand to his side, where the cut was oozing blood sluggishly. 

"Did you eat it?" 

The gumiho heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes, then winced. "No, she ... went up that way." He waved towards the mountains. "To the source." 

"Why?" 

"Save me from the curiosity of mortals," muttered the gumiho in not-quite-an-undertone. "Why do you think I know about the business of wights? Someone put out a call, and she answered, I suppose." 

"And the children?" Jaebeom asked. "From the villages."

Abruptly, the temperature around them dropped. 

"Is _that_ why you've been poking around?" The gumiho glanced between the two of them, before his eyes fixed on Jinyoung. "Well, that's no business for mortals. Nasty. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Stay out of it, is what I'd advise you." It smiled, in a way that was meant to be disarming and made Jaebeom smell ozone. "There, that's my good deed done for today." 

Jinyoung's mouth tightened. "Will you hinder us if we don't take your advice?" 

The fox yipped again. He laughed so hard his eyes creased shut and he collapsed fully into the grassy earth. "Stupid ..." he paused significantly enough to grate over Jaebeom's nerves. "Mortals. I gain no advantage from hindering you. I might even gain more, otherwise."

"What —" 

"Fine," snapped Jinyoung. "But tell us about the children, what else do you know?" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaebeom saw that Jinyoung's knuckles were white about the hilt of his shaking sword, under the smears of his own blood. The claw-gashes on his forearm would have to be cleaned and bandaged soon. 

Opening his eyes, the fox said, "Give up. It is too late for them. They will have no graves, but fates willing, kinder lives in the next turn of the wheel for them." He shrugged phlegmatically, then. "If their souls are still intact." 

"What — their _souls?_ " 

The disgust in Jinyoung's voice mirrored Jaebeom's own feelings. This revelation sank like a stone in his gut. 

"Souls, yes. And yours will not be spared, I can assure you of that." 

Jinyoung shook his head. "But that's — even — "

"Ah, little hunter." The fox's mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. "Are you still so callow?" 

"What proof have you?" Jaebeom cut in.

"Proof?" The fox sneered. "What is this, the courts of mortal men? You have my word, under binding and on my tails." 

Elbowing Jaebeom in the side, Jinyoung demanded, "What else is there?" 

"Nothing — nothing worth your pretty little necks. I have stayed well clear of that business, myself. You know what us gumiho are like, I'm sure."

Jaebeom did; they were individual creatures who liked keeping to their own devices. They had very little in common with their lesser cousins, in that way: no dens, no bonds of kinship. He knew what the gumiho was telling them: there was a conspiracy underfoot. 

He exchanged a look with Jinyoung. They had had their suspicions, but to have confirmation like this ... 

"Fine," said Jaebeom. "And — wait, how long have you been in this forest?" 

The gumiho shook his head. "A month or so. I winter in the south."

The children had been going missing long before. 

"Fine." Jinyoung's fingers were trembling minutely. "You — fine." 

"You're still going to poke your noses into this, aren't you?" The gumiho closed his eyes briefly; absurdly, Jaebeom noted that his lashes were long and fine. With a low sigh, the gumiho sighed, "Well, can't say I didn't try." Then he shrunk down into a lithe, red fox and slinked out between their ankles, tails whacking them in the shins and lower thighs, and ran off into the undergrowth. 

Jinyoung's seal lay, shrivelled and turning quickly to ash, on the grass. 

Jaebeom gaped. 

"We got more time than I'd thought," Jinyoung noted briskly. "Well. We may as well make camp here. And cremate that body." He was already moving towards the corpse. 

There was sense in what Jinyoung had said; both gumiho and wight were gone, but better safe than sorry. Though — 

"We could be halfway back to the village by moonrise if we start back now."

"Why the village?" 

"They will want to hear the news? And — that?" Jaebeom gestured at the corpse incredulously. 

He watched Jinyoung work his jaw for a bit. "Further north, towards the mountains. I have contacts." 

Jaebeom stiffened. His pulse was already quickening sickeningly, in anticipation of another argument. "Ones you have to bind first?" 

" _No_. And — more to the point — what," said Jinyoung witheringly, "aid do you think those villagers have to give us?"

"We should at least tell them about ... him."

"We can do it on our way back. If they even know him." 

Jinyoung dropped the corpse halfway through dragging it to a drier spot. The look of distaste on his face as he peeled its robes back, looking for any belongings, was clear. 

"A warrant — a merchant's warrant," he announced, holding it up. "That should do it. Are you happy now?" 

"Oh — leave it," Jaebeom said impatiently. He went over to help with the cremation. And see to Jinyoung's forearms. 

The moon had sailed into the sky by the time they'd finished and had warded their camp with a diamond of protection, anchored to the rising sun. For life, and hope.

With that done, they fell into a silence just shy of comfortable. 

Jaebeom stared into the crackling fire, trying to work out how to ask the question — _did that gumiho fuck and leave you when you were, hard to believe as it is, young and naive?_

Across the flickering flames, Jinyoung snorted. "Don't strain yourself, Hunter Im. I can see you thinking." 

"Do you know its — his name?"

Jinyoung scoffed. "No, what spirit would give its true name to a hunter?"

"It's just..." Jaebeom shook his head and threw the twig he'd been fiddling with into the fire. "You knew him two tails ago."

"I was barely out of boyhood then," Jinyoung said. "And it wasn't me who — it was — well. That's all in the past. I'm not surprised he gained six tails so rapidly. Too clever by half, that one."

That was less enlightening than Jinyoung likely thought it was. 

Jaebeom sighed and sank onto his back in his bedroll. "Never mind."

"As well you should," said Jinyoung, getting to his feet. "I'll take first watch. We have a long walk tomorrow."

➵


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [bluetint:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetint/pseuds/bluetint)
> 
> the gaunde (literal translation = middle) is sort of like, boneless Switzerland? It’s like the oldest buildings in the land and it’s sort of earned a reverence over time. It’s open to everyone, but you’ll usually only find hunters there. The idea was adopted from TDF, where they had McAnally's Pub. Readers of the series will know what I'm talking about. 
> 
> hunters can choose to be all rounders or they can go on to cultivate specialities. Khun enjoys Merder For Profit but he’s a good guy! Or is he? And Chansung likes recording things for posterity. 
> 
> Wooyoung used to own a chick named Peep at some point. That’s how Sukja was born.
> 
> (see end notes for more definitions)

➶

_How it began - i_

“The art of calligraphy, or _soeye,_ is not just painting letters on a paper canvas, but a lifestyle. It requires years of training to master the techniques and discipline the mind.” Porcelain fingers swirl the brush in ink, some of the bristles breaking off despite the gentle touch.

“The artist enters a state of meditation, where the only things that matter are the pen in their hand, and the emotions felt in that moment. Isn’t that beautiful?”

Jaebeom wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and licked the remainder off. The cut on his cheek from earlier had reopened; blood sluggishly trickled down his face. 

“Did you really crawl through the window in the dead of night to give me, a hunter, a lecture on calligraphy and waste spell paper?”

Nichkhun pouted, putting the worn brush down. “Do you not enjoy my company?”

“I would enjoy it more if you hadn’t attacked me in my own home.” The horde of _dokkaebi_ he’d dispatched from the old farm down the road hours prior had done a number on him. His already aching bones ached more from the tussle with the mercenary sitting across from him.

Nichkhun had a nasty habit of telling Jaebeom things he didn’t want to hear. He'd started avoiding him ever since the one time he’d ended up crying after a long heart-to-heart with the man; now Nichkhun tied Jaebeom down to the nearest surface to get him to listen.

The ruckus should have caught the attention of the innkeeper, had it not been for the silencing ward the assassin had emplaced. Nichkhun could murder him in cold blood and no one would be the wiser.

What a lovely thought to have.

“Correction: I was merely rousing you from your slumber. You sleep like the dead; it’s a miracle someone hasn’t murdered you in your sleep and gotten away with it.” Nichkhun sniffed, as if Jaebeom’s exhaustion driven slumber had caused him inconvenience.

Jaebeom's temper had been rising steadily since Nickhun had thrashed and bound his hands behind his back, his snake familiar coiled around his neck like a noose. Jaebeom took a deep, bracing breath and asked, “Why are you here?”

“I’m here on behalf of someone to offer you a job.”

“Not interested.” 

“I’m afraid that’s not an option.” The snake hissed in Jaebeom's ear, the tongue sliding briefly against the lobe.

“Oh, she likes you.” This observation did not comfort Jaebeom in the slightest.

Nichkhun withdrew a silk pouch from within his coat. “You’ve heard about the missing children, I presume?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Have you been keeping up with the investigation?”

“From time to time.”

“Well, my client wants you to take over the case.”

 _Oh?_ “The Royal Bureau of Investigation is working on it.”

“They are… but I’m afraid they aren’t making much progress. Not that anyone’s surprised. Besides” — Nichkhun paused here, delicately — “they don’t possess your… talents.”

Ah.

Closing his eyes, Jaebeom took another deep breath, counting backwards from ten. The familiar tightened its grip by a fraction. “An unfortunate affliction is not a talent.”

“It doesn’t just have to be an unfortunate affliction,” says Nichkhun, in the kindest of tones.

And there it was, Nichkhun’s peculiar habit of making Jaebeom feel like he was worth more than he really was. Like this ugliness burning inside of him wasn’t eating him alive every waking moment, wouldn’t get him executed by the brethren if it got out.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Jaebeom growled past the building itch in his throat, toying with the bind. The blasted ropes were taking unusually long to come undone. 

“It’s not, yes.”

A brief pause followed.

With a weary smile, Nichkhun revealed the contents of the pouch, letting them tumble out of the silk and on to the faded wood of the table. 

Jaebeom reached out to touch but remembered but he couldn’t. “Wormwood?”

“Asphodel,” corrected Nichkhun, picking up one of the dried sprigs with care. One of the petals fell off. “Do you know what it's used for?”

“Skin treatments.”

“That is the wider known usage, correct.” Nichkhun arranged the sprigs in a neat circle as he spoke. “My associates --” he chuckled “-- rather enjoy using it. You could say it’s a particular favorite.”

“At each of the abduction sites, there was a sprig of asphodel left behind. The Bureau, of course, disregarded the presence of these and termed it coincidental. However, the Order does not believe in coincidences.”

He counted. There were seventeen sprigs in total.

There could be no good news attached to a plant used for nefarious purposes, especially in their world. Most of its uses were ritualistic.

Jaebeom swallowed, in an effort to moisten his throat, which had gone dry. “There are no coincidences, only the inevitable,” he mumbled. 

His master had been fond of uttering such cryptic adages in response to a question, mainly for the purpose of being irritating. This one had been a particular favorite.

“The Bureau’s _efforts_ ” — there was a lakeful of derision packed in that single word — “have yielded nothing fruitful. Children continue to go missing and you are going to find out why.”

“I haven’t agreed.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to. After all” — Nickhun withdrew something else from his pockets — “it wouldn’t do to have you executed for disobeying an edict. Well, it’s not so much as an edict as a… request you can’t refuse.”

And then he held up the identity tag.

Well, that certainly changed things.

“Will I have assistance?”

Nichkhun smiled. Usually, it inspired a semblance of comfort.

“Of course.”

“Anyone I know?”

“Your partner will meet you at the gaunde.”

“The _gau_ \- what? Partner?”

But Nichkhun merely pocketed the tag and rose.

“Find your masters. They’ll tell you the rest.” The conversation was over.

Jaebeom didn’t speak until Nichkhun was at the door. “Are you going to take that with you?”

“What?”

He nodded at the dagger sticking out of Nichkhun’s shoulder that Jaebeom had lodged in it earlier when they’d been going at it. His colleagues liked keeping him on his feet.

Nichkhun blinked at the blade embedded in his shoulder with surprise. “Oh.”

Once upon a time, Nichkhun had felt pain like the rest of them. But then something had happened to change that. Like Jaebeom’s, it too, was a well-kept secret.

Perhaps another reason Jaebeom did not feel at ease around Nichkhun, was that the man had accepted his fate, had made his curse into a boon of sorts. This was something Jaebeom could not bring himself to do, because it would mean giving up a part of himself.

The human part.

He watched as Nichkhun pulled the blade out, observing the blood smeared on it like one idly inspected a pot before deciding not to buy it, and placed it on the floor. The familiar unwound itself from around Jaebeom's neck and slithered over to its master, disappearing into his cloak.

The blood on the blade was, disturbingly, red.

➴

Jaebeom had planned on leaving for headquarters at first light but when he awoke it was already midday. Exhaustion lingered in his sore bones, making the process of tidying up the room a tedious task. The innkeeper had been kind enough to lend him a room despite reservations harbored against hunters and it wouldn’t do to abuse that. 

Praying that the man wouldn’t notice the human-shaped dent in the wall, he set off.

As usual, no one met his eyes and as usual, Jaebeom did not mind.

He’s starting to prefer it this way.

Calling a few rooms at the back of the magistrate’s office 'headquarters' would be a stretch. Before, the Order had their own building but then the King had taken the throne and things had changed.

Wooyoung was locked in a tense game of _gonu_ with Sukja when Jaebeom arrived. Junho was meditating on the ceiling, upside-down, silent and still for once, but that wouldn’t last long.

Peace in Jaebeom’s life never did. 

“You will not defeat me this time, you wicked witch,” exclaimed Wooyoung at Sukja, an aged silky fowl with constantly irritable bowels. Healer A-yeon had claimed the fowl was in good health, that her nervous colon was merely the side effect of having Wooyoung for an owner. Watching as the bird tiredly blinked at the man before rewarding the pebble with a nonchalant peck, Jaebeom would have to agree.

Both of them looked up at the same time when he cleared his throat to get their attention, whistling in sync at the sight of his bruised face.

“Did Yeongsim not agree with your services?”

“Did you refuse to deliver the whelps again?”

“I was under the impression I was sent to the farm to dispatch the goblins, not to tend to her mutt,” he snapped, memory of the middle-aged woman’s scowling face waving the homi over his head springing to his mind unbidden. “And no, she’s not due until next week.”

“Yeongsim or the dog?”

Wooyoung smacked Junho on the back of his head with the pebble. Junho yelped and landed on the floor, his robe falling to reveal pants patched in several places. “Well, she’s not paying until you do, so you better hop down there.” 

“Well, I’m not going to be here next week, am I?” 

Junho’s face emerged from under his robe. “Going somewhere?”

Jaebeom dropped the hopae on the ground in front of him. It was blank, save for the dragon carved into the middle. He’d found it under the table when he’d been cleaning the mess up. “You tell me.”

Wooyoung stood up with a click of his fingers, finally relieving Sukja, and the silencing ward fell into place. Paranoid lot, hunters. Even more so than assassins, sometimes. 

Rightfully so, since the magistrate’s cronies were always lurking about. Wooyoung, fiddling with the pebble, barely glanced at it. “I see he dropped by.”

“Got the drop on you, did he?” Junho’s smirk widened when Jaebeom didn’t deign to reply. 

“The client?” Jaebeom pressed on.

Only a blind man or a fool would be unaware of what the hopae bearing the crest of the four-clawed dragon meant. But even, so...

“Yes, it’s him.”

The affirmation that it really was the Crown Prince did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach. 

“How... poorly did the Royal Investigation Bureau perform?”

Wooyoung and Junho exchanged bland looks.

“Should we tell him?”

“Might as well, he’s the one who’s going to be wiping up the shit.” Heaving a great sigh, one usually associated with worldworn elders, Wooyoung seated himself. “You might want to sit down for this. Sukja! Fetch me the scroll!” That command only earned him some runny droppings.

“Never mind, I’ll get it,” muttered Junho, clicking his fingers. A tightly furled scroll lifted itself from one of the various piles around the room and fell into Jaebeom’s lap, bursting open the second it came in contact with his fingers. It was intended only for him, then. 

Jaebeom stared at the numbers through the asphodel scattered on the page. “That can’t be right.”

His seniors didn't respond. 

“Twenty-seven…” Nichkhun had only shown him seventeen sprigs. “How?” 

Wooyoung massaged his temples with his permanently ink-stained fingers. “We knew the first three children went missing from Dongnae and the villages after that, but then the trail went cold. We thought whoever had taken the children had stopped. What we didn’t know was that more than one child went missing from each village. The Bureau isn’t exactly known for their _forthcomingness_. Those bastards wouldn’t even have come to us if not for the last child.”

Jaebeom scanned the list, stopping at the last number, the space next to which was blank. “Who?”

“A nobleman’s child. One whose name they refused to disclose because of ‘the sensitivity surrounding their birth’ or some fancily worded bullshit.”

“The child’s illegitimate,” translated Junho before deftly ducking the pot of ink Wooyoung threw at his head. It bounced off the wall and landed on the floor near Jaebeom’s foot. “But he is the lord’s only heir and judging from the urgency, it seemed like a son.”

“Definitely a son,” amended Wooyoung. 

When referring to the nobility, everyone’s voices automatically took on a sheen of visceral disgust. Even Sukja’s clucking was rife with disdain.

“The King hates us,” declared Jaebeom finally, putting the scroll down. “The Crown Prince and his Highness are not on good terms. If the King finds out about this -- ” The lack of reaction from them is starting to piss him off. He slammed his hand down on the low table. “Exactly how much of it do I have to spell it out for you both?”

“Tolerates us,” corrected Wooyoung. Normally they would tell him to watch his mouth with a smack. “The King _tolerates_ us, but the Crown Prince is a different story.”

“Why me, then? There’s plenty of other seasoned hunters to choose from.”

No one acknowledged the halfling elephant in the room. 

“You’re asking a lot of stupid questions, Jaebeommie.” Junho’s mocking tone never failed to raise his hackles but right now he was too tired to raise anything. He didn’t even protest when the man viciously pinched his cheek.

“It’s Hunter Im.”

Junho raised one eyebrow at him, and pulled harder. “You plan on walking into the _gaunde_ with that sanctimonious attitude? If so…” Junho’s other hand takes the other cheek hostage. “Please discard it, because I would hate to scrape up the - ” Simultaneous vicious pulls on both sides of his face. “ - remains of my beloved dongsaeng off the floor. Lower your head.”

Jaebeom glared back.

“Lower. Your. Head.”

Jaebeom did.

Junho released his face, but not before smacking both cheeks lovingly. “Good boy.”

“I don’t like this,” said Jaebeom at last, face stinging.

“Your opinion has been noted, and duly discarded.” The pot of ink rose from the floor and floated back to its rightful place. “Go on now, scoot.”

With a flick of Junho’s fingers,the ward dropped.

“Oh, and Hunter Im?” 

Jaebeom paused, one foot out the door. They only ever used his official title as a warning.

“Beware the feral cat.”

➴

Present Day

So far, they’d kept it amicable between them; one could only trade barbs for so long before tiring of it. But the encounter with the gumiho had cast a shadow over the camaraderie they’d built up. Any questions on Jaebeom’s part would have come across as an inquisition, an unwelcome prying, and the knowledge that they would have to resort to unsavory measures (re: Jinyoung’s contacts) didn’t do any wonders for the atmosphere.

Three quarters into the journey, they stopped at a river. They split up without any discussion; Jinyoung gathered wood for the fire while Jaebeom waded into the river to catch fish.

Smack dab in the middle of the river, he “ran” into the ghost.

Hunters, could, at best sense ghosts. If one were exceptionally talented or gifted. Unless a spirit expressly showed itself, you wouldn’t even know they were there. 

Not if you were Jaebeom, who could see them clear as day, regardless of time, place or situation. 

Like everything about his affliction he’d chosen to ignore, his newfound Sight refused to be suppressed. A universal truth: the more you try to pretend something doesn’t exist, the more it will do everything in its power to prove you wrong.

The one thing he hadn’t been able to pinpoint was - _how in the heavens did the ghosts know he could see them?_

If not for Jinyoung, he would’ve acknowledged the ghost, listened to its woes before respectfully dismissing whatever request it had, but he couldn’t do that, now, could he?

The spectre, undeterred by his taciturn silence, blathered on, even going so far as to sit next to the two hunters as they cooked the fish in silence. Its peculiar accent grated on Jaebeom’s nerves.

Jinyoung, wholly unaware of Jaebeom’s dilemma and suffering at the hands of the chatterbox ghost, had mistaken the grimace on Jaebeom’s face for distaste at the sight of the burnt carp. They’d been wandering aimlessly in the forest for days now, in search of Jinyoung’s contacts, who so far, had proven to be elusive, putting Jinyoung in a foul mood.

“If you hate it so much, then give it here,” snarled Jinyoung, snatching the stick from a bewildered Jaebeom’s hands.

The ghost had found it hilarious. Its disembodied cackle echoing in the air around them made Jaebeom’s skin crawl, dampening his appetite. Jinyoung, blissfully, continued to delicately feast on Jaebeom’s share.

The hope that the ghost would get bored and eventually go away was dashed when they got to the foot of the mountain and it remained.

Between accompanying a colleague with a newfound disposition of a crotchety plough horse and getting his ear talked off by a dead boy, Jaebeom had developed a constant headache. Not to mention the growing sense of unease that had been plaguing him since the mountains had come into sight.

At the foot of the mountain, Jinyoung pulled out a crystal opal and a thaumaturgy kit. 

“Please hang back.” His tone is relatively more civilised than back at the riverbank. “I don’t want your aura interfering with the spell.”

Jaebeom wanted to roll his eyes, he really did, but chose to take the higher ground and instead hung back until Jinyoung was out of earshot to finally, _finally_ give the ghost a piece of his mind, who was well in the middle of another spiel about cats. This ghost really liked talking and it really, really liked cats.

“Doesn’t the sound of your voice tire you out?”

“Ah, finally he acknowledges me. And here I thought I wasn’t worthy enough for his snootiness to converse with.” More insolence. Wonderful. 

As if he didn’t get enough of that from Jinyoung.

“One does not go around conversing with the dead.”

“One does not go around seeing the dead either.”

Touché.

“Are you dead?” The boy came close, so close that Jaebeom took a step back, and looked at Jaebeom up and down. Even went so far as to sniff him dramatically. “Rumor had it that you had died.”

It never ceased to amaze Jaebeom how quickly gossip travelled around the supernatural circles. Sometimes, it seemed they knew more than he did about himself.

“Tell me.” — Jaebeom swept the ghost off his feet with a kick — “would a dead man do this?”

The ghost, now flat on his back, blinked up at him. “A living person shouldn’t be able to do that either.”

“Indeed,” Jaebeom sighed, wondering what was taking Jinyoung so long. Was he still looking for his contacts? Had he gone and gotten himself lost? Or eaten by a bear? The last one lifted his spirit a little. 

“Why are you smiling like that? It’s creepy.”

Jaebeom wiped it off with a scowl, turning his attention back to the ghost. The boy hadn’t been dead long; he still retained color. “What’s your name, brat?”

“Are you always this rude to those you meet?” The ghost stood up so he towered over Jaebeom. One of the few things Jaebeom liked less than conversing with the dead. The dead who towered over him. “And why would you ask for my name?”

“It is common courtesy to introduce oneself.” Jaebeom stared at the stitches that held the boy’s severed neck to his body. _Death by decapitation? Or had someone slashed his throat open?_

“You first.”

The ghost let out a sound of surprise when Jaebeom made his introduction. “You just gave me your name.”

“You did just ask for it.”

“Wonderful, does this mean I can possess you now, _ahjussi_?”

Ah, the naiveté of youth. Also, _ahjussi?!_

“Yah, it doesn’t _quite_ work like that. Possession is forcible violation of the soul. In our world, it is a crime punishable by death. To even consider the prospect… is troubling, to say the least. Now your turn.”

“Bambam.” What a strange name. “But those men earlier didn’t seem troubled.”

The back of Jaebeom’s neck prickled. “What men?”

“The ones who were here before you.”

Before them? “When?”

Bambam shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Jaebeom bit back a sigh. “Tell me about the men, then.”

“They were here a few days ago. I started following them from my village –”

“I see following peculiar men is a habit of yours.” 

“It’s rude to interrupt, _ahjussi_.”

Jaebeom made a clicking sound, gesturing impatiently for the boy to continue.

“And I don’t make a habit of following peculiar men, but this group was strange. Stranger than strange. Stranger than you two, honestly. I’ve been following you two for a while now and you fight like cats and dogs. My noona didn’t even argue with her husband this much and he was a useless lug - ”

The vein in Jaebeom’s forehead twitched. “Bambam.” 

The ghost blinked at him innocently. “‘What?”

“Focus. The men.”

“What men?” At Jaebeom’s withering glare, he backtracked. “Right. The men. They went around talking to the kids, waving bread in their faces. I told the kids not to, but they couldn’t hear me, obviously. But then they left? But those three children went missing right after too.” Bambam communicated with his entire being when he talked, arms gesticulating wildly. His voice hadn’t even broken yet.

“Did it only happen in your village?”

“No, the ones after that disappeared this way too.”

“And you know this because…?”

Bambam rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Okay so I might have been following a little longer than I originally mentioned.”

Jaebeom waited.

“Since you showed up… in the village?”

Jaebeom didn’t yell, but it was a near thing. _“And you just decided to show yourself now?”_

“Excuse me, who was the one giving the silent treatment?”

“In case it escaped your notice, I have company.”

“You don’t trust that fellow?”

Now here was another question he couldn’t answer, thought Jaebeom, feeling very tired. The sun was about to set. Where was Jinyoung? “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember anything else about the men you saw? Even the most innocuous of details would be helpful, no matter how peculiar.”

Bambam sat down, crossing his legs in a meditative pose, squinting into the distance. Jaebeom waited him out. “I don’t know if it’s even relevant but one of the kids said something.”

“Go on.” 

“The little girl said the _ahjussi_ smelled like flowers.” 

“What?”

Bambam shrugged. “Heck if I know. She just said that. I thought it was weird.”

Flowers?

“Which village was this?”

“Dongnae.”

Dongnae… Dongnae... why did the name sound familiar? 

Wooyoung’s voice echoed in his head, clear as day..

_The first three children went missing from Dongnae._

They’d started their investigation from there before moving on to the other villages. Tracking down a missing person or object was difficult unless you knew magic and had something that belonged to them. It had been Jinyoung’s idea to visit the orphanages, in hopes of finding something - a patched doll, a piece of hair, a monkey fist - anything that they could perform thaumaturgy on. Barring the last child, the other twenty six had been orphans.

Honestly, how had the Bureau missed that obvious pattern?

The orphanage and guardians had been reluctant to talk to them. Reluctant would be the wrong word to describe it. It was as if they had no recollection of the children, whatsoever. One of the caretakers had even gone so far to chuck a filled chamber pot in their direction when Jinyoung made a scathing remark about their negligence. 

The only one willing to talk to them had been the village lunatic, who’d ranted and raved about moonshine and fairy rings before they gave up on him.

"Whoever did this," Jinyoung had said late in the night when they'd been sitting in the shed of an old farmer who’d allowed them shelter in exchange for some coin, staring up at the night sky, "knew what they were doing." 

But even so, someone had to care for them, right? Someone had to have remembered them; didn’t matter if they were dead or alive. When Jaebeom had been canvassing the villages on his own, having insisted to Jinyoung that they would cover more ground this way, he’d gone around looking for ghosts. 

Ghosts of the children. 

He’d found none, but that hadn’t brought him relief either. 

Just because you couldn’t find someone’s soul didn’t necessarily mean they were dead.

_"Give up. It is too late for them. They will have no graves, but fates willing, kinder lives in the next turn of the wheel for them...If their souls are still intact."_

The uneasy feeling had morphed into a full-blown knot in the base of his stomach.

“ _Ahjussi._ ” Jaebeom blinked, coming back to the ghost tugging on his sleeve. “Are you alright? You look… unwell.”

Head still awhirl, he opened his mouth.

A shrill scream pierced the air.

➴

_How it began - ii_

The _gaunde,_ aptly named, was a quaint inn situated in the heart of the town and run by a hunter. 

Hunters, for obvious reasons, did not often live to see their old age. There were a rare few exceptions to the rule.

Rain’s age, experience and viciousness were visible in the scars that marred his person; the story behind each narrated in the records kept by the historians. A bite mark on his wrist from a zombie. Claw marks on his neck where an enraged pichal peri had gone for the jugular. A left pinky that had not healed right. Numerous others that were covered by his clothes. 

Jaebeom had witnessed him once, as a child. Watched Rain locked in close combat with a wolfman when a horde of them had attacked the town. The ease with which he had severed one beast’s head in one swift motion and moved on to the next without blinking had made Jaebeom vow never to get on this man’s bad side. 

In fact, the same sword was being polished in front of his eyes right this second, the blade gleaming wickedly in the lamplight.

He’d made good on that vow, until last year. Rain hadn’t even acknowledged Jaebeom when he’d walked in.

This along with the memory of what had caused it, made him want to shrink in shame.

The door finally swung open, a chilly breeze whooshing in, bringing with it the scent of petrichor and a face he hadn't thought he'd be coming across for a while.

_Beware the feral cat._

When Junho had thrown those parting words at him, Jaebeom had dismissed them. His master was in the habit of saying utter nonsense, mainly to get a rise out of him. But now, he saw that it had been a warning.

 _Fuck me_ , thought Jaebeom. Jinyoung's expressions went from cautious contrition to confused shock in a matter of seconds as he glanced from Rain to Jaebeom, and their gazes locked.

Neither of them saw the stasis bindings coming.

The man hadn’t even _moved._

“What -” The binding cuts Jinyoung's attempt off. Limbs bound tightly together, they both tipped over, landing heavily on their sides.

Rain finally put his sword down, the metal gleaming as if it had been forged anew. The action should have inspired some semblance of relief, but it did not.

“Initially, the _gaunde_ was built to provide shelter for our kind. The world - human or otherwise - is not kind to us; when we go out to hunt, it is not with the promise of return. Here today, gone tomorrow. Our way of life was viewed as a disgrace, Those who turned to it were often turned away by their families, for it was thought that only a fool would go racing into the arms of a monster.

“Time passed. Hunters were no longer feral dogs to be set on a problem, but valuable members of the community. The government finally noticed us and the King decreed that this place be neutral ground for those who wished to seek out our services.”

Jaebeom was doing his best to pay attention, but something was off. It seemed as if the air in the room was getting thinner.

“The _gaunde_ has but one rule. And yet — ” Rain had been pacing soundlessly over the aged wood floor . He came to a stop between Jaebeom and Jinyoung who were lying seven feet apart, the former on his side and the latter on his back.

“And yet, you broke it. Tell me, Hunter Park. What is the punishment for fighting on neutral territory?”

Hunter Park did not answer. 

Rain tsked, crouching down next to Jinyoung’s prone form. His arm moved so fast it caused Jaebeom’s heart to stutter. Tangling his fingers in Jinyoung’s hair, he wrenched his head back. Jinyoung’s eyes — the only thing Jaebeom can see from where he lay — were wide.

The widest with fear he’s ever seen them.

Rain repeated his question again.

Jinyoung failed to respond.

The air in the room is so thin it’s nonexistent. Fear is a familiar acrid taste in his mouth.

Jaebeom wasn’t imagining things, Rain really was choking them with the binding. 

Rain repeats his question this time, bending low so his face is only inches away from Jinyoung’s, who gasps for breath, squeezes his eyes shut.

Anyone would shy away if Death were gazing into their eyes.

“Tsk tsk,” Rain let go of Jinyoung’s hair, letting his head drop to the floor. “Cats need to be brought to heel, but dogs -” Rain turned to look at Jaebeom. 

Junho's words came to him then. 

_Lower your head._

Jaebeom did. 

“Even the rabid ones know better than to bite the hand that feeds it.”

Rain stood up, tall and menacing. Thunder continued to rumble outside.

“I could execute you both without a second thought and no one would dare lift a finger.” The stasis binding was slowing his circulation where it pinched tight, making his head spin where he lay. “Many would even class it as a justifiable punishment for violating the sanctity of middle ground.”

Had he - _they?_ \- been sent here to be punished? Was the thing about the missing children a ruse? Or had he been sentenced to death and had unknowingly walked to his own execution? 

“But!” Rain clapped his hands, once, and the bindings disappeared. “My colleagues beg to differ. Why, Masters Ok and Lee even went so far to say that should you fail this mission, they would bear the responsibility.”

Thunder roared mightily outside as the man’s words sunk in.

“Should you choose to refuse – ” Rain paused to chuckle, three parts mirthful, one part sadistic, “ – your masters will be disgraced alongside you. Fond as they might be of the two of you, I don’t think anyone could look past that sort of failure.”

Jinyoung let out a sharp exhale. Few things mattered to him. But Master Ok Taecyeon, whom Jaebeom hadn’t seen since graduation, was one of them. 

“Should you choose to accept –”

“I accept.”

Rain tilted his head, mouth quirking to the side at their simultaneous response.

“So be it.”

A scroll, eerily similar to the one Jaebeom's masters had handed to him, shimmered into view. Next to it floated two vow strings.*

“Rise,” said Rain. On shaky legs, they did. “And come forth so you two may redeem yourselves.”

If this was redemption, thought Jaebeom, as the bracelets wove shut over their wrists like shackles, then why did it feel like doom?

➴

Present day

When Jinyoung’s scream pierced the air, Jaebeom’s heart stuttered to a stop. 

His feet started moving before the sound faded; he raced towards the source, bleak scenarios of Jinyoung in 

So overwhelmed he had been, he failed to notice that the ground had disappeared under his feet and that he was no longer where he’d previously been. 

When Jaebeom had been at the academy, he’d spent his free time in the library, poring over accounts written by the historians, most of them hunters themselves. Historian Hwang had been a particular favourite. His accounts were descriptive and meticulous. His illustrations, especially on the Fae, were the most accurate and detailed that anyone had ever seen. Even the cantankerous Hunter Park (now retired) who was so stingy he wouldn’t even give a ghost a fright if it asked for one had acknowledged them with a frugal nod of his overblown head.

The intricately drawn Fae had flowy wispy hair, androgynous features and an underlying malevolence in their seemingly indolent expressions. The illustrations had always stopped above the waist. 

Multiple cadets had appealed to him for the reason but Historian Hwang only ever offered up a mysterious smile, as if he were enjoying a joke only he was privy to. 

So desperate had been Jaebeom he had even gone so far as to ask Historian Kim, whose brains had been addled by a banishment ritual gone awry, causing him to respond to any queries with a stream of nonsensical babble. But Minjun had simply cradled a struggling Jaebeom to his chest and said, “Hush my child, one does not ask about such won - horrors. Did I say wonders? I meant horrors, yes.”

The rest, too, had been annoyingly vague about their answers except for Wooyoung, who in a rare display of magnanimity had bestowed a morsel of wisdom upon him. “Whatever you do, don’t look down.”

Im Jaebeom, an utter fool, did exactly that.

“What is the meaning of this?” 

“Wah, _ahjussi_ I didn’t peg you for a pervert.” Bambam let out an impassioned sound of disgust for maximum effect.

“Jaebeom.” That’s Jinyoung. He’s unharmed, whole and not bleeding from anywhere. Actually, he looks a tad hysterical. 

It might be because Jaebeom had his sword out and pointed at the goddamn monarch of the Fae. The crystal crown resting atop the inky curls twinkled mockingly at him.

But Historian Hwang and the others, damn them all to hell and back, had not once bothered to so much as hint about _bedazzled genitalia._

Somewhere, in a dim room surrounded by paper and ink, Hwang Chansung sneezed in the middle of snacking on a banana.

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions**
> 
> ☾ Thaumaturgy is considered working miracles but it can also be used for tracking using a personal or precious item. The Opal Jinyoung used to find the lair of the Fae was via thaumaturgy. The concept of thaumaturgy was adapted from TDF by Jim Butcher.
> 
> ☾ Vow strings are bracelets hunters wear from the start of their contract. They automatically dissolve upon completion. Should a hunter die before completion of the job, the bracelets would automatically appear on the wrists of their masters. Think of it like a remixed version of the Unbreakable Vow spell from Harry Potter.
> 
> ☾ gonu: jul-gonu, a two-player abstract strategy board game
> 
> ☾ homi: a short-handled farming tool
> 
> ☾ hopae: an identification tag carried by people during the joseon dynasty
> 
> ☾ pichal peri: a "reverse-footed", usually female-bodied supernatural creature


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [subsequence:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence)
> 
> it's been a long while since i looked at this chapter, but reading it over again makes me so happy to be part of a neat project with great authors! thank you very much to forochel and bea for laying such fun groundwork to play with and major kudos to tania for managing the whole round robin 💕

_➶_

_Before it began_

Jaebeom squeezed his eyes shut, hoping against hope that when he opened them again the world around him would return to normal.

At first, he could almost convince himself that it worked. The inn was dingy, the yellow gleam of the lanterns dripping greasily down the surfaces it could reach. Its inhabitants didn’t appear much better — world-weary may have been the kindest word to describe them — but it was par for the course for a hunter’s lodgings, particularly during a mission.

Hope perked up in Jaebeom’s chest at the sight for the first time since his encounter. The strange magic he’d stumbled across had left him shaken and jumpy. It wasn’t unlike his first solo mission, when he had sworn he was seeing shadows of monsters around every corner. Then again, his fears back then had mostly seemed to be shadows; now, he swears he can almost pick out faces.

He turned back to his untouched tea. It had cooled in the time that Jaebeom had been panicking, but anything would be welcome relief to his cottony mouth.

_What are you?_

Cold tea sloshed over Jaebeom’s hand and robes when he startled. The voice had been unbearably close, as if it had slithered into his ear. His eyes darted around the inn. In his years of hunting, he had learned to keep a stony face even when fear wrapped icy fingers around his heart — but this was wholly unfamiliar to him, something even his training hadn’t prepared him for.

He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and silenced his thoughts. With his mind empty, he drank in his environment — not the sights and sounds that had been playing with him, but the energy of the beings moving through it, even the ones not visible to the human eye.

 _There._ The telltale pulsing chill of a ghost’s presence behind him, enough to raise goosebumps on his arms. It was stronger than any he’d felt before — and, he realised with dread crawling up his throat, it was drawing nearer.

Despite the cold, a drop of sweat slipped down the side of Jaebeom’s neck. His thoughts raced through binding spells, protective spells, the talismans he always wore beneath his clothing. He was more than prepared for normal spirits, but this one felt impossibly tangible, like it might simply reach through the veil into the world of the living—

The hand that gripped his shoulder felt almost human. It made the icy cold of it all the more unnerving.

Jaebeom whirled in his chair, hand on the hilt of his sword, and found himself face-to-face with a fiercely pretty girl. He could see the shape of the man behind her through her body.

“What are you?” she demanded, voice as clear as a bell among the muddle of conversation in the inn.

“I could ask you the same.” Jaebeom did not remove his hand from his weapon. Plenty of monsters knew a lovely face was better protection than claws and teeth.

She scoffed, her eyes blazing with contempt. “You wear the dress of a hunter, but you pretend not to know ghosts.”

“You aren’t like any ghost I’ve seen.”

Rather than reply, she squeezed his shoulder tighter until it was almost painful. “I know the aura of your kind,” she muttered to herself. “But you wear a hunter’s disguise. I thought you folk couldn’t lie.”

Jaebeom tried to shake off her hand. When that failed, he grabbed her wrist and tore her grip away. Her slender forearm felt like an icicle in his grasp, so cold it almost burned, and he stared down at the sight of his solid fingers against her translucent wrist.

The shock from being able to touch a ghost almost made him unable to dodge the fist that came flying for his face. He barely caught it in time, her wrists locked tightly in his hands as she struggled.

“You _are_ one of them.” Her face twisted into a snarl, no less beautiful and all the more terrifying for it. “I knew it, I could see it on you — you must’ve masked it somehow, but I can still see the traces, you _monster—”_

Before Jaebeom could respond, he heard the gruff clearing of a throat behind him. He was loathe to take his eyes off the spirit, but he tilted his head just enough to meet the gaze of a short, burly man with red cheeks — the innkeeper.

“I know your type’s usually a few cards short of a deck,” the innkeeper said. “But you can’t be causing a scene in here. I have a business to run.”

The spirit let out a shrill, piercing laugh that sounded more angry than amused. “A _business_ to run,” she repeated scathingly. “The Fae run this inn and you take the scraps they give you, you cowardly backstabbing _bastard,_ may as well have killed me yourself — ”

Jaebeom’s eyes narrowed at the inkeeper. “Fae?”

The innkeeper’s ruddy cheeks drained of color. “What did you say?”

“I’m just repeating what she said.” Jaebeom jerked his chin in the direction of the spirit. “What’s this about the Fae running the inn? And killing a girl?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the innkeeper said hoarsely. “I didn’t — We don’t have room for liars or madmen, whatever you’re playing at.”

“I’m not playing at anything — ”

“Trying to ruin my business!” His voice rose in volume until it was a rough shout. From the pallor in his cheeks and the sheen of beading sweat on his forehead, Jaebeom recognised something more than anger at being found out — this man was deeply afraid. Not unexpected, when one became entangled with the Fae. “Spreading lies! Get out!”

“I wasn’t lying.” Jaebeom released the spirit’s wrists, praying that he wouldn’t regret it. He held his hands up in a motion of appeasement and tried to make his tone soothing. He wasn’t sure if he was successful; there was a reason he hunted monsters for a living rather than putting on niceties. “Sir, please give me a moment — ”

“No,” the innkeeper barked. He dabbed at his brow with a stained cloth that looked as if it had seen better days. “Take your things and go, hunter.”

“But the ghost — ”

“What ghost?” The innkeeper scoffed and looked around the inn at the other customers. “He’s raving mad, isn’t he? Seeing things! Do any of you see a ghost?”

Quiet murmurs trickled in from all corners. Jaebeom’s stomach lurched when he realised they were all agreeing with the innkeeper. If it had only been the one man denying her existence, Jaebeom likely would have suspected him of trying to pull one over on him. But a whole room of strangers…

Jaebeom’s eyes slid back to the girl, who was watching him and the innkeeper warily. “You didn’t know?” she murmured. “You think…you think you’re human.”

It took everything within Jaebeom not to immediately retort: _I am human_. He tore his gaze away from her and looked to the innkeeper. “I…apologise for the misunderstanding,” he said stiffly. “This mission was long. Must’ve taken its toll.” He lowers his head in a bow. “I’ll take my leave now.”

By the time he turned back, the girl was gone. He might have believed the innkeeper — if not for the lingering chill in his fingers and her words scorched into his mind.

➴

“You look like death warmed over,” Junho said bluntly. “And even then, not thoroughly.”

“Yeah, all right.” Jaebeom leaned back against the wall, let his eyes slip shut, and ran a hand down his face. He wondered if he could catch a few moments of sleep on his feet before Master Ok arrived.

That hope was thoroughly dashed by a vigorous pinch to his cheek. Jaebeom scowled and smacked Junho’s hand away without opening his eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” Junho’s voice was low and serious enough that Jaebeom cracked an eye open to look at him. “You haven’t been right in … weeks. Ever since that possession in Dongnae.” His brow was set with worry and his lips were tightened into a line.

He was right, of course. That was the issue with working among hunters — too much competence in one place for a man to have any privacy.

Then again, Jaebeom reflected, perhaps his master could help him. After the girl at the inn, pale faces had started to haunt him in the streets, in shops, in his bed if he wasn’t staying at home. Beyond that, the spells he had studied for years had started to feel foreign on his fingertips, like delicate borrowed trinkets.

Other people hadn’t seemed to notice, not even hunters. The sole exception seemed to be the street cat he’d been feeding for months now. Usually fond to the point of demanding when Jaebeom returned from a mission, she had taken one look at him, hissed, and dashed off up the street.

“I…” Jaebeom licked his lips. “I stumbled across some old magic in the forest to the west. When I was tracking down the possession case, I mean.”

Junho’s dark eyes were unreadable. “What kind of old magic?”

Jaebeom opened his mouth to reply, but the answer stuck in his throat. _You think you're human_ rings through his head. _I thought you folk couldn’t lie._

Jaebeom wasn’t stupid. He knew how those pieces fit together. He also knew how kindly the law looked upon non-humans — and a non-human who had wielded magic as a weapon, who had hunted down targets, who had presumed to behave like a _person?_

“Just…” Jaebeom swallowed hard, throat clicking with painful dryness. He tried to say, _It’s just something to do with fatigue, probably, haven’t been able to sleep, is all,_ but the words scraped and lodged in his throat like shards of glass. He grimaced and shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to focus on the starbursts of colour behind his lids rather than the pain.

“Jaebeom?”

“I — I’m not sure what kind of magic it was,” Jaebeom gritted out. These words, at least, passed his lips with nothing more than the echo of residual pain. It was true, that he wasn’t sure. The picture was becoming clearer, though, and Jaebeom’s panic was mounting with it.

The warm weight of Junho’s arm settled across his shoulders and he repeated his name. Thankfully, Jaebeom was saved from answering by the creak of the door and the humid air that billowed into the gaunde.

“Junho.” As always, Master Ok’s presence seemed to expand to fill the room, even when he lowered his head in greeting. “It’s good to see you’re doing well. And Jaebeom — ” He hesitates. “Well, it’s good to see you.”

Jaebeom bowed stiffly, avoiding Taecyeon’s eyes. Instead, his gaze lighted on the young man standing behind Taecyeon.

“Jinyoung?”

The young man gave him a small smile. “Jaebeom.”

Junho glanced between them. “Ah, you two are the same age, aren’t you? You must’ve started training around the same time.”

Jaebeom nods and hears a murmur of assent from Jinyoung. There had been a time when those over-sized ears and clever eyes had been a regular sight in Jaebeom’s life. Park Jinyoung’s name returned to Jaebeom surprisingly easily, although his frame was notably bulkier and his gaze had gone from clever to downright piercing.

“Did Taecyeon bring you for moral support?” Jaebeom kept his voice low, expecting to commiserate with Jinyoung while their Masters discussed whatever had brought them to the gaunde.

Contrary to Jaebeom’s expectations, Jinyoung bristled. “He brought me because I have pertinent information.”

“I — right.” Jaebeom fumbled with his words. “Which is?”

“Jinyoung.” Taecyeon gestured to him. “Come, tell us what you’ve discovered.”

Jinyoung didn’t spare Jaebeom a glance as he slipped forward like oil atop water to stand at Taecyeon’s side. “It’s regarding the problems in Dongnae, the missing livestock and poisoned wells.”

Junho made a noise of comprehension. “Ah, yes, that nuisance. You found something promising?”

“I did.” Jinyoung’s posture as he reported his findings almost made him look like a military officer rather than a young man Jaebeom’s age. “I was able to meet with some people who know more about the history of magic in that region. They’d had their eye on the disappearances as well.”

“Who?” Jaebeom asked.

Jinyoung continued as if Jaebeom hadn’t spoken. “They didn’t want to give me too much information beyond the fact that we’re dealing with something powerful. Dangerously powerful.” His lips curled into a smile. “Thankfully, my informants are powerful too, and they didn’t particularly care for someone stirring up trouble that might lead back to them.” He reached into a satchel at his side and pulled out a thick bundle of silk wrappings. Delicately, he unwound them to reveal animal bones, charred and cracked from fire with characters etched into their surfaces. “They gave me this to help take care of it.”

The sight made Jaebeom’s stomach lurch.

When he had been in the forest — the strange magic that had overcome him had risen from scattered ashes across the earth. It had risen around his feet in plumes of shadow, charcoal swallowing the light and settling heavily in his lungs until it burned. It had taken Jaebeom too long to realise that it went beyond the usual irritation of smoke.

“Where did you meet your informants?” he asked stiffly, eyes glued to the bones.

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“You can’t expect us to just take spells or talismans or — _whatever_ that is when we don’t even know the source,” Jaebeom countered. “Bones hold power. We should know what we’re dealing with.”

“It’s a simple ward.” Irritation lined the edges of Jinyoung’s voice. “It just has … a little more push behind it, is all.”

“And where is that push _coming_ from?” Jaebeom took a step closer, half to see the characters on the bones more clearly and half to impress upon Jinyoung how serious he was. “I’m not trying to get rid of one kind of monster in Dongnae only to open the door to another.”

“If they were dangerous, do you really think they would’ve let me walk away?” Jinyoung snapped. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Well, how am I supposed to be sure if you won’t even tell us what it _is_ that you’re doing?” Jaebeom felt a familiar hand on his shoulder — Junho has seen him teeter on the edge of controlling his temper enough times to know the warning signs — but he couldn’t hold back the words rushing forward from his mouth like a deluge. “For all we know, you could’ve made a deal with the Fae.”

Jinyoung’s eyes slid to a spot somewhere over Jaebeom’s shoulder. His expression remained remarkably even.

Jaebeom hissed in a breath through his teeth. “Don’t tell me — ”

“Don’t tell you what?” Jinyoung replied coolly. That was confirmation enough for Jaebeom, and their masters as well, apparently.

“Jinyoung.” Even Taecyeon seemed caught off-guard. Clearly Jinyoung hadn’t disclosed his source to him, either.

“I took every precaution.” Jinyoung’s voice was steady and smooth, but he held his chin up too proudly to feel genuine. “It was a calculated risk.”

“Every precaution.” Jaebeom laughed mirthlessly. “Every precaution means not talking to the fucking Fae. Did you get pulled into their Court? How do we even know you’re _you?”_

“Jaebeom.” There was a warning note in Junho’s voice. “Don’t get carried away.”

“I met them in neutral territory,” Jinyoung said quietly. “In the western forest.”

Jaebeom’s throat closed up, rage searing through him so painfully it prickled behind his eyes. “The western forest?” Even to himself, he sounded dangerous. Junho’s grip on his shoulder tightened to the point of bruising, but Jaebeom barrelled forward. “Did you even pause to think about how meeting with the Fae and letting them perform their own magic there might impact humans? _Irreversibly?”_ He choked on the last word, fists clenched tightly at his sides and trembling.

“I was there,” Jinyoung said, somehow defensive and haughty and impatient all at once. “I was the litmus test. Their magic had no impact on me, even though I’ve been _carrying_ it.” He brandished the bones for emphasis, and Jaebeom flinched back. “Don’t tell me you’re so superstitious you’ll completely give up on diplomacy.”

“Superstition doesn’t come into it,” Jaebeom growled. “The Fae are dangerous.”

Jinyoung shrugged. It made Jaebeom’s blood boil. “Maybe if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Later, Jaebeom wouldn’t know if it was the lack of rest, the foreignness of his magic, or simply Jinyoung’s attitude that made him do it.

All he knew was that he hit first — and that Jinyoung could throw a mean punch.

➴

Present day

The monarch tilted their head. The glow of their skin was simultaneously eerie and lovely, like moonlight on freshly fallen snow. “What an interesting specimen,” they drawled in a voice as sweet and clear as a bell. They did not seem to be fazed in the slightest by Jaebeom’s sword, lazily meeting the point of the blade with a fingertip and swinging it away.

At the feeling of the hilt shifting in his grip, Jaebeom suddenly realised that he should do…something. Anything other than stand there and stare. He abruptly sheathed his sword and lowered his head in a bow. “I apologise,” — _what was the proper term of address for the monarch of the Fae?_ “Your Highness.”

Their laugh made the hair on the back of Jaebeom’s neck stand on end. “Oh, you’d like to switch to formalities now? After you drew your little toy on me?”

Jaebeom dared to look up again and found the monarch inspecting their fingertip. Ink-black blood beaded up where it had touched Jaebeom’s sword, but they didn’t seem bothered. Rather, they placed their finger delicately into their mouth — showing a flash of razor-sharp teeth that made Jaebeom reflexively swallow — and sucked absently at it.

It released its finger and said, “You may call me Hakyeon, hunter.”

“Yes, Your — Hakyeon.”

Hakyeon’s lip curled into a smile. “Better. And what is your name?”

Jaebeom wondered just how poor of an impression he’d made on the monarch. It’s almost insulting they thought he might fall for that.

When they received no response beyond a wary look, Hakyeon shrugged. “Well, it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?”

“If you say so.”

“I don’t know if it would give me any particular power over you, though,” Hakyeon continued. “You’re a funny little thing, aren’t you?”

Jaebeom tensed. He had hoped before, during their fight with the gumiho, the stasis binding might’ve prevented Jinyoung from overhearing its conversation with Jaebeom. Now, though, there was nothing standing between Jinyoung and knowledge that could end Jaebeom’s life.

“Aren’t all hunters?” he deflected.

Hakyeon tilted their head, a gleam in their eye like a well-polished blade. “That’s an interesting companion you have there.”

From behind came Bambam’s whisper: “Can it see me?”

Jaebeom ignored the sound, praying he could play dumb enough for the monarch to leave him alone. He nodded his head in Jinyoung’s direction. “Yes,” he said blandly. “He’s not a very conventional hunter.”

Hakyeon laughed again. “That’s quite something, coming from you.”

“Hey,” Jinyoung hissed. If nothing else, Jaebeom appreciated that he didn’t give away his name. “What are they talking about?”

Jaebeom tried to reply, _I don’t know,_ but the words were like red-hot coals in his throat and he grimaced. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“Oh, you don’t think so?” Hakyeon asked. Their voice lilted melodically in a sing-song that wormed its way under Jaebeom’s skin. “I think you two could get in rather a lot of trouble keeping a secret like that, but—” they shrugged “—then again, I don’t pretend to really understand how you humans do things.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Jaebeom said tightly.

He could see a glimmer of amusement in Hakyeon’s eye, but they mercifully didn’t mention his questionable humanity. Instead, they continued, “I suppose the natural question to ask is how you two stumbled through the veil.” They turned to Jinyoung and lifted an eyebrow. “Seeing as the violent one over there came crashing after you, I assume it’s your fault.”

“I was attempting to find someone else.” Jinyoung looked unruffled, but Jaebeom recognised the practiced air of it all too well. “I didn’t realise he would be a member of your party. I apologise.”

Hakyeon hummed. “But you were still looking for Fae, then, weren’t you?”

A grinding noise resounded through Jaebeom’s skull; he realised after a moment that it was his teeth as he clenched his jaw.

After a moment, Jinyoung admitted, “Yes. Just one, though.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day, then.” Hakyeon held their arms out in a gesture that might have been welcoming if it didn’t reveal knife-like black feathers along the backs of their arms. “You have a personal audience with me.”

“Ah. Yes.” Jinyoung gave Hakyeon a polite smile. “Really, I don’t want to be a bother, actually, so if you could just tell me if you have anyone named Mark in your party — ?”

“Mark!” Hakyeon laughed. “Oh, he _is_ a charmer, isn’t he? Although you’re a bit prettier than his usual type, I’d say. And usually hunters aren’t so … amenable to taking gifts from us.” They craned their neck to gaze over the Fae gathered around them. “But I’m sure he’s here somewhere, if you’re so keen to see him, little hunter.”

Jinyoung bowed his head, but Jaebeom could easily imagine the tightness around his eyes. “I would greatly appreciate that, thank you.”

The Fae who stepped forward from the group looked daintily beautiful with lavender hair and skin translucent enough to show veins of the same colour. When he smiled, Jaebeom had to suppress a shiver at the fangs that were revealed. First the gumiho, now this? _Jinyoung, what the hell?_

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Hakyeon murmured in his ear, “Let’s leave them to it, shall we?” Jaebeom turned faster than was probably wise. He saw several of the Fae who lingered around Hakyeon lean forward as if ready to attack, but the monarch waved them off. “I’d like to talk to you alone, anyway.” They swept forward, leaving Jaebeom to decide whether or not to follow.

Tentatively, Jaebeom stepped forward. “Why? I mean, why alone?”

Hakyeon glanced over their shoulder with a smile that didn’t put Jaebeom at ease. “Well, since you seemed to want to keep your little secret — ”

“Right.” Jaebeom started to walk faster toward Hakyeon. Hopefully, Jinyoung was already too engrossed in his conversation with _Mark_ to notice what Hakyeon had said. “All right, then.”

He followed Hakyeon until they stopped by a stream that had long carved its way through the forest. The gnarled, exposed roots of trees along the banks drank directly from the water and Jaebeom could see fish the size of his pinky finger darting about beneath the surface.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone like you,” Hakyeon started.

“Someone like me?” Jaebeom could feel Hakyeon’s piercing gaze on his face, but he stared steadfastly down at the stream.

“You really do pass very well for a human.”

The nauseous clench of his stomach was familiar to Jaebeom at this point — it happened every time he so much as thought about this topic. “I’m not _passing_ for anything.”

Hakyeon hummed thoughtfully. “You’re a stubborn one. I wouldn’t have been able to pick you out if I wasn’t Fae, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t, really.”

“Usually, children tend to fall one way or the other,” Hakyeon mused. “You, though. You look properly human.”

“I — ” The denial scorched his throat before he could utter it. He swallowed a growl. “What do you want from me?”

“Who said I wanted anything from you?”

Jaebeom narrowed his eyes. “I would find it…uncharacteristic of the Fae to enter a conversation like this without a goal.”

Hakyeon laughed, that sweet, ringing sound that made Jaebeom feel slightly off-balance. “Well, then, I could just as easily ask what you want, couldn’t I?”

Jaebeom exhaled harshly. “Your Highness — ”

“Hakyeon.”

“ _Hakyeon._ ” Jaebeom put all his effort into keeping his voice steady and relatively pleasant. “If you have something you’d like to ask me, then please tell me. I’m a straightforward person and I don’t do well with dancing around.”

“We could work on that,” Hakyeon said, almost as if to themselves. “But really, I think we both have something to offer each other, don’t we?”

“I don’t want any of your gifts.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty.” Hakyeon smiled. Their teeth were not dissimilar to a shark’s. “The human world is a difficult one to be a halfling in.”

Jaebeom clenched his jaw. “I’ve managed fine.”

“So far.” Hakyeon stepped closer. “But how long do you think you’ll be able to keep it up?”

“As long as I need to,” Jaebeom replies. “There’s no reason anything would change.”

Hakyeon let out a pitying laugh that scraped across the surface of Jaebeom’s skin. “I said it had been a while since I’d seen someone like you, not that I’d never seen it before.”

Suddenly, Jaebeom’s tongue seemed too heavy for his mouth, too dry.

Hakyeon took his silence as a sign to continue. “All it took was exposure to Fae magic, wasn’t it?” They almost sounded sympathetic, if it weren’t for the calculating look in their eye. “And you’ve been changing ever since. Coming into yourself.”

“It hasn’t been that big of a change,” Jaebeom said quietly. “I’m handling it.”

“There was that ghost boy who came with you,” Hakyeon continued. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed when you try to lie. It hurts, doesn’t it? I could teach you how to work around it.”

“What do you _want?”_

“To offer you a place with your kind,” Hakyeon replied simply. “You’re gambling with your life, halfling. Your companion may like Fae just fine, but I wouldn’t be so certain about other hunters.”

“Why do you care?”

“I won’t deny that having someone who can pass for human among my Court could be favourable to me.” Hakyeon shrugged. “It seems mutually beneficial.”

“I’m not interested.” Jaebeom’s voice felt tight, knotted in his throat so it was painful to swallow around. At least they both knew he wasn’t lying.

Hakyeon tilted their head to regard him. “I’m sure you believe that now.” They lifted their arm, plucked one of their feathers, and offered it to Jaebeom. He eyed it warily and Hakyeon sighed. “There is nothing binding in this. It’s simply an option, should you change your mind.”

Jaebeom still didn’t take it. “Will you be able to find me? Track me?”

Hakyeon scoffed. “Foolish child. If I wanted to find you, I wouldn’t need anything so clumsy.”

Jaebeom didn’t realise he was reaching out until the edge of the feather grazed his fingertips. He half-expected to find blood beading where it had touched him, so razor-sharp did it appear, but it glided harmlessly against his skin.

“Go on,” Hakyeon coaxed. “Like calls to like.”

The feather was icy cold and felt almost as heavy as Jaebeom’s sword when he held it in his hand.

Hakyeon beamed at him. “Perfect. Now — let’s get back and make sure my Mark hasn’t done anything _too_ untoward with your companion.”

➴

It was remarkably easy to leave the Fae once Hakyeon was ready to let them go. Jaebeom tried to ignore the unease pooling in his gut that told him it only appeared easy.

Then again, ignoring worries about the Fae monarch was less difficult with other distractions on hand.

“Is there any kind of monster you haven’t — _consorted_ with?” Jaebeom muttered, his voice barely audible over the shriek of cicadas.

Jinyoung’s expression was haughty, but his ears were pink. “What was it you said again?” he sniped. The movements of his fingers were jerkier than usual as he cast a spell over their fire to keep it running through the night. “It’s nothing that concerns you?”

“Seeing as your _relations_ led to me being face-to-face with the monarch of the Fae, I think it very much concerns me,” Jaebeom hissed. “Did you even get anything useful out of him?”

“I did.” Jinyoung glared up at Jaebeom from his seat by the fire. The orange glow highlighted the sharp cut of his jawline and the masculine planes of his face. “And you?”

“What do you mean?” Jaebeom laid out his bed roll, looking at the ground rather than Jinyoung.

“Your talk with Hakyeon.” From Jinyoung’s tone, he wasn’t buying Jaebeom’s feigned ignorance. “And he said — ”

“Unlike you,” Jaebeom interrupted, “I don’t put much stock in the words of monsters.”

Rather than snapping at him like Jaebeom had expected, Jinyoung simply looked at him as if he were a stubborn puzzle piece that refused to slot into place. “That’s interesting,” he finally said, “since Hakyeon mentioned — ”

“If you have so much energy to talk, you can take first watch, “ Jaebeom said abruptly. “I’ll sleep first.”

“You don’t even want to discuss what Mark told me?” Jinyoung asked incredulously.

“Tomorrow.” Jaebeom rolled over so his back was to Jinyoung. Hakyeon’s feather shifted on the string around his neck he’d bound it to, weighing heavily on his breathing, but Jaebeom stubbornly held his position. “I’m tired.”

He couldn’t tell if the blazing heat on his back was from the fire or from Jinyoung’s gaze.

It took Jaebeom a very long time to fall asleep.

➵


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from: [rainbowbrown:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowbrown/pseuds/rainbowbrown)
> 
> Hello readers, rainbowbrown here! This is my first time to take part in roundrobin and it has been a great honour and pleasure to collab with all other great authors. Special thanks to tania as the organizer and my wonderful beta Two hearts. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy your reading, folks^^

➶

Jaebeom made a clearing under a particularly shady tree, just across the campfire they built. His mind was still in distress from his private conversation with the Fae's monarch. When he laid there, sleep seemed so far away. 

Sometime later, as the cold of the dirt-packed ground felt almost wet against his skin, he eventually fell into a deep, uncomfortable sleep.

He was on a neutral ground, he recognised, when he found himself unable to activate his own magic. There wasn't anything on the land, just a vast, empty land. There was a distinct sound though and like a person under a spell, he was entranced and mindlessly trailed after it.

He didn't expect to stumble upon what looked like a Fae's congregation on his home ground. Jaebeom quickly shook his head, scolding himself. This was not familiar territory, but why did his gut feel otherwise?

Looking at the crowd, he was ready to flee as he wanted nothing to do with these creatures, yet part of him was so incredibly intrigued. Tentatively, he tried to make his way past the crowd. He could hear his own heart beating faster the nearer he was to the front row. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Hakyeon was the one who's delivering the speech. Strangely enough, no one paid Jaebeom any attention, even when he stood out like a sore thumb. Not even the monarch, who looked past him like he wasn't even there. It frustrated him. 

Jaebeom desperately wanted to hear what was being said but try as he might, it all sounded like gibberish to him.

He tried to reach out. He wanted to understand, he wanted to belong, he needed an anchor. To _know_ himself.

That was when he caught Jinyoung at the corner of his eye.

He turned and tossed on the hard surface for a long while, before a boot nudged at his leg, startling him.

He quickly pulled out his dagger and swung it at his attacker, only to realise it wasn't an attack at all.

"What the fuck, Jinyoung?" God, he forgot Jinyoung was still there. The man dared to look offended.

"You looked so troubled, I decided to put your misery at ease,” Jinyoung explained. You should thank me, not fling around your weapon." 

Jaebeom took a deep breath to calm himself down. He subtly checked for the Fae's feather around his neck, suddenly paranoid if it was exposed. He wanted to get rid of it, his dreams just felt so real. Was it a sign? But he couldn't do that here with Jinyoung's hawk eyes on him.

"That isn’t a good way to rouse a seasoned hunter, Jinyoung," he settled on saying instead.

Jinyoung shrugged noncommittally. But didn't offer any response.

He felt mildly annoyed, but Jaebeom really didn't want to argue so soon after his rest, so he dismissed it. 

He stretched out his numb legs and got up from his seating position to sit on a log directly across his companion.

Feeling thirsty, Jaebeom attempted to drink from his water flask, only to find just a drop left. He tsk-ed loudly, "Damnit!"

A flying flask almost slapped him across his own face, and only pure reflex saved him from probably a broken nose. It was a metal container, after all.

He glared at his companion who was obviously trying to contain his laugh. If he was a lesser man,Jinyoung would probably be lying in his own pool of blood now.

"Thanks." He muttered under his breath. Fortunately for Jinyoung, he was a well-mannered man.

He chugged down the water, feeling so hydrated afterwards. 

"You aren't going to sleep?" Jaebeom asked after a while when he noticed Jinyoung didn't plan on leaving his post at all. 

"My shift hasn't ended yet," Jinyoung replied shortly. 

"It's fine. I can take watch from now on. I can't go back to sleep anyway."

Jinyoung hummed. "Not sleepy too."

Jaebeom raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. He could do whatever he liked.

It was quiet for a long time. Jaebeom honestly didn't expect Jinyoung to start a conversation.

"Is it your dream? To be a hunter?" His deep voice pierced the lonely night. 

“Oh, he's in for a small talk now.” Not that Jaebeom minded much. It was a welcome distraction, to be honest.

He took his sweet time though to answer. Should he tell the truth? "Well, I-" He stopped himself just in time. Why should he tell him about it? They're practically strangers, at this point.

At least for now. 

"- don't know." He finished lamely.

"It wasn't my dream, to be a hunter." 

Jaebeom turned at Jinyoung's voice, surprised that the other still carried on their conversation.

"Would you like to know something more baleful and deadly than supernaturals?"

Jaebeom shook his head, but somehow he had an inkling.

"Halflings," he said, a bitter smile adorning his lips.

Jaebeom blamed the chilly wind that blew past them when he visibly shuddered. It's certainly not from Jinyoung's keen scrutiny. 

"Why? What is so dangerous about them?"

Warily, he asked after a moment, half curious, half dreading the answer.

"Halflings are rare, Jaebeom. They are extremely sought out in supernaturals' world, and I know this because... you're familiar with how I work, right?" Jinyoung spared him a glance, and while Jaebeom's insides were a mess, he managed to give a disapproving look to which the Jinyoung ignored. Instead, he continued on. "Oh, their abilities vary based on what halflings they are, and while they look human, their powers could surpass even a high level of magical creatures."

Jinyoung ended up revealing much more information that Jaebeom carefully tucked away in his mind. What's more concerning, half of what he's saying, Jaebeom never even heard about it. Though he didn't dare to put his two cents in.

"They caused the death of my parents." Jinyoung finished. Jaebeom let out a short, sharp intake of breath at the revelation. He didn't foresee that one.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He offered his condolences sincerely. Looking at his companion's face though, Jaebeom almost dropped his water container. Jinyoung didn't look a bit sad, he just appeared cold-hearted. Gone was his air of indifference just now.

➴

Jaebeom cleared his throat.

"You know what, I think this is the longest conversation we had without constantly at each other's throats," Jaebeom remarked. He needed something to avert his attention. 

He wasn't prepared for Jinyoung’s friendly smile. And this time, it looked genuine. One that reflected his expression, and brightened his features. It was the first time it was directed at him, and Jaebeom was nonplussed. For a split second, his eyes were drawn to the younger's lips as the light from the campfire illuminated it. _Oh. Were the dimples always there?_

_Wait, what the-? Oh hell, where had that come from?_

"What about Mark?" He blurted out.

"Thought you wouldn't ask." Jinyoung’s eyes suddenly shone. He was getting excited, Jaebeom wagered. Suddenly, he dreaded to hear the answer.

However, he just nodded his head, and gave a sign for the younger to continue.

"He’s got information. He's willing to help." Jinyoung said, and Jaebeom knew he was waiting for his reply.

Jaebeom clicked his tongue. "No. We're doing it our way, Jinyoung."

"But why? You should give us a chance. And what do you mean by our way, when it's just your way."

"Please, don't be stubborn. You know how I felt about dealing with those creatures. I do not trust them."

"Dealing with them doesn't mean you have to give trust to them." Jinyoung negotiated.

 _They had been at this mission for too long,_ he said, _he'd been following Jaebeom's way ever since. And look where it got them? At this rate, he wasn’t even sure if they could solve this mission successfully._

"Think about it. I'm going to sleep." 

It was abrupt, and Jaebeom hated that he felt a little disappointed at Jinyoung's sudden departure.

Jaebeom did the thinking, though. He thought it was so quiet the moment Jinyoung retreated, until he realised Bambam's ghost was nowhere to be found. 

➴

They continued their journey up the mountain come morning, the air getting chillier the further up they went. 

Jinyoung still didn't talk to him, would probably still be seething until he changed his mind. He was speed-walking, already having left Jaebeom behind. Jaebeom could still see his figure, but it was obvious he was in no mood to talk today. Jaebeom sighed. And he thought they were going somewhere.

"Rough night?" Bambam whispered in his left ear. It startled him so much he cursed loudly.

Jinyoung stopped in his tracks, and turned to him, eyes narrowed.

"I tripped on my own feet!" Jaebeom called out. Jinyoung stared for several seconds, before he probably decided Jaebeom's clumsiness was not worth his time.

Jaebeom heaved a relieved sigh. Jinyoung's big ears sure served its purpose, he thought bitterly.

"Holy shit, his ears are big for a reason!" Bambam snickered beside him. Jaebeom rolled his eyes, the kid knew no shame.

"Shut up, this is all your fault." 

The kid pouted, while rubbing his sore skull. Jaebeom felt bad, so he tried to make conversations, not before he made sure Jinyoung wasn’t within their earshot, of course. 

It turned out the kid was missing last night because he returned to his regular inn. That was what he said in any case. Jaebeom didn't even want to know why exactly this ghost needed sleep. He let Bambam chatter away, and gave occasional reactions where he deemed appropriate. Mostly, his mind still reeled with Jinyoung's words last night, and his unusual dream. 

He was so in over his head that he only sensed that they were near to their destination as Bambam's voice became infrequent as they approached the crest.

Jaebeom didn't know if he should feel relieved or not. On one hand, he was free from the incessant chatter of the boy, but Jaebeom couldn't deny that his presence also comforted him, as strange as that sounded. Feeling lonely, he quickened his pace to catch up with his only other companion.  
  
➵


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [Sugarbowl:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugarbowl/pseuds/Sugarbowl)
> 
> Hi all, Sugarbowl here! Participating in this round robin has been such a blast. I'm honored to be among some of my personal favorite authors and dear friends in this group, so I know no matter the crazy twists and turns that this format encourages, it'll be a treat to read through. Writing in a round robin is always so unpredictable, but that's my favorite part of it all. When we settled on historical fantasy as the genre I knew it would only get wilder and wilder! Hope my little addition adds to the fun, and a final thanks to Tania for all her hard coordinating and keeping in touch! Enjoy!

➶

At the crest of the mountain ridge, the village of the gumiho’s victim came back into view, hot and humid beneath low-hanging clouds.

“Are you still intending to return the warrant?” Jinyoung asked, glancing back over his shoulder at Jaebeom, who reluctantly picked up his pace to catch up.

“Do you even still have it?” Jaebeom puffed out. “I thought you weren’t as concerned.”

“I’m not,” Jinyoung said, but his eyes wavered off to the side, and he appeared hesitant for the first time in a while. “People die everyday, and are often not missed,” he added, smoothing out an imperceptibly crooked crease along his sleeve. “But yes, I still have it. And we’ve come this far.”

“We can post it in the market and leave,” Jaebeom said, gesturing back to the main trail, where a worn stone marked the edge of the county. They continued together down a set of switchbacks. “It shouldn’t take long, and — _hopefully_ — we might even sidestep any suspicion from the authorities.”

“Oh but wouldn’t that be a novel way for our mission to conclude,” said Jinyoung dryly, stepping around a muddy patch. “To end up wrongfully imprisoned for the work of a gumiho? By now, I’ve imagined our failure in a number of ways, you know... but I wouldn’t have guessed this was an option.”

Jaebeom didn’t say what he wanted to say, swallowing the words back with his tongue. _Not just_ any _gumiho,_ he wanted to remind Jinyoung. _What was he to you...?_

But instead, he stayed quiet, purposely treading right through the wet border of the puddle, and taking brief, defiant pride in the way Jinyoung cast an irritated glance back at the squelching sound.

The mountain trees and boulders started to thin out here, in the foothills before the village valley. The wind brushed past them more insistently as the geography took its time flattening out into meadows and farmland. Their hike into the town was downhill, and not too steep, but it took them easily half the day, most of it spent in silence.

Jaebeom lagged behind, lacking the energy to argue and instead just watching the tug of the wind through Jinyoung’s clothes. 

He had an air of elegance about him, but Jaebeom had never found him feminine. He had never discounted his strength, but especially not after he’d felt the raw power in Jinyoung’s fists.

A sudden, intrusively embarrassing memory came flooding back into Jaebeom then, along with a flush of hot blood in his cheeks. 

In the gaunde, when they’d fought, it hadn’t even been with magic. It had just been _instinct_ — a hot flash of indignant anger in Jaebeom’s gut, a bristling under his skin, and then his knuckles were cracking against jawbone. And not a second after that, amidst the frantic rustle of robes, he’d wound up with a lapful of Park Jinyoung.

Somehow in the scuffle, Jaebeom had accidentally grasped Jinyoung at the back of his thigh. 

At the top. At the top of the back of his thigh, where the sinew of his muscle creased into the soft curve of his ass. 

At least, that was the best Jaebeom could guess as to the exact location of his fingers. They were still safely beyond the several layers of clothing, outside of his baji _,_ merely clutching cloth. This was what he reminded himself, every time he thought about the fight. Jinyoung had no right to react like he had, nails digging into Jaebeom’s arm to toss it aside like an actual wildcat. 

Besides, just before he’d recoiled, Jaebeom had heard his sharp intake of breath, had heard the fractured, whisper of a squeak that he’d then tried to hide.

The fight had gone on, too bitter to be diluted by something as insignificant as an awkward fondle. And perhaps, if it had been anyone other than Park Jinyoung, Jaebeom might have forgotten the entire thing by now. 

But with one glance at his hips, Jaebeom remembered the warm weight of his body pressed up against his own, crystal clear in his mind. 

Jaebeom glared and looked as far off the trail as he could, without losing sight of his step. No, this kind of thinking would absolutely _not do,_ for the mission at hand. 

For the sake of those children, Jaebeom thought, queasily, he should not let his eyes linger on Jinyoung’s waist any longer. For the sake of his _master,_ and Jinyoung’s too.

“So,” Jinyoung murmured, suddenly. “You don’t want to work with the Fae, but you were perfectly comfortable taking private audience with the monarch.”

Jaebeom’s temper flared back to life, bristling hot under his skin. But the cold weight of the Fae’s feather, tucked safely against his breastbone suddenly felt like a comfort, and he took a shaky breath to centre himself before responding. 

“What else would you have had me do?” He asked. “Your insistence on speaking with that _other_ one didn’t leave me with much choice.”

“Did it go well?” Jinyoung asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“It... _went.”_ Jaebeom said, feeling stubborn again. “It went about as well as any serious discussion with one naked, iridescent demigod can go.”

“You _really_ must have offended them,” said Jinyoung, looking caught between disbelief and outright amusement. “Fae have quite a strict code of social etiquette.” 

_“I_ must’ve offended _them??”_ Jaebeom repeated, eyebrows high. “Their entire… bottom was just out, sparkling in the sun, and _I’m_ the offensive one?”

Jinyoung, for just a fleeting moment, looked like he might be about to laugh. But as quickly as Jaebeom had spied the curl of his plush lips, Jinyoung’s mask of indifference was back in place.

“It doesn’t take much,” Jinyoung explained. “They’re royalty. Your very presence could just be deemed… unworthy.”

Jaebeom didn’t respond, jaw jutted out in defiance. 

“But you didn’t have to _gawk,”_ Jinyoung added, more softly. 

“You could’ve at least _tried_ to prepare me,” Jaebeom groused. “Since you’re so... _experienced_ with their kind. You didn’t know the monarch would be out there? Pantsless?”

Jinyoung paused, and Jaebeom stopped with a lurch, nearly crashing into him.

Jinyoung’s eyes were suddenly flickering, and Jaebeom could almost feel the trace of his gaze, heavy and hot as it dragged all the way down the length of his body, and back up again.

Jaebeom’s mouth felt suddenly too full of spit, and he looked away as he swallowed, entirely flustered.

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?” Jinyoung said, acerbically. 

A chicken suddenly ran clucking between them, then, and they flinched away from each other to discover they’d reached the outcropping of the inner city, a sure sign that the marketplace would be close.

A few blocks later, and they’d they found the town’s central message board, plastered with faded notices, many peeling off the wood with age. 

Jaebeom pressed one slumped corner of a flyer up with a thumb, and then startled back as he recognised a sloppily sketched portrait.

Jinyoung, who was reaching for the merchant’s parchment inside his undershirt, suddenly froze at Jaebeom’s side.

He’d noticed the same drawn face Jaebeom had, on an official _warrant of arrest,_ for a distressing long list of offences. Jinyoung left his still hand against his chest for only another moment.

Face stony, he quickly tucked the merchant’s papers away behind a different sagging poster, before spinning around and disappearing back through the villagers without a word.

 _I’ve imagined our failure in a number of ways,_ Jaebeom remembered Jinyoung’s words then, as he navigated back out after him, finding himself jogging to keep up.

Stubbornly, he plucked at the back of Jinyoung’s sleeve as soon as it was within reach. Jinyoung swung back around to glare outright at him.

“You _are not_ about to tell me you’re thinking that fox was up to good now, are you?” Jaebeom blurted out.

Jinyoung looked confused, and then exasperated, turning away and keeping at his persistent pace through winding alleys, back to the outskirts of town.

Jaebeom followed in silence, promising himself not to let the conversation go.

“I’m actually _not,”_ Jinyoung said, once they’d slipped away from the denser crowds. When it looked like there was no immediate commotion, he let out a little breath. “I just don’t want to be seen anywhere near those papers,” he said. “I meant when I said I don’t want to end up in jail.”

That hadn’t exactly been how he’d phrased it, but Jaebeom had to admit it was a fair point. “We still probably shouldn’t stay the night,” he offered. “But let’s at least get some refreshment before we head back up over the mountain ridge.”

He took Jinyoung’s silence as agreement, and led them around a corner into the courtyard of a cheerfully noisy restaurant. It felt reassuringly busy — they should just melt into the crowd.

Jaebeom reached out to pull out a bench in a larger common space for them to share, but Jinyoung continued past him to an even smaller table, in a back corner behind a hanging plant. Jaebeom had to duck to settle across from him. 

“But is a gumiho doing good really the strangest idea to you?” Jinyoung finally asked. “Is it so hard to even consider?”

Jaebeom frowned, staying stubbornly quiet as Jinyoung requested tea service from a passing server, but then he let out a loud breath, shoulders in curling in defeat.

“Yes,” he said. “How many times has that happened? When have they been good, for society?”

“Maybe you should take a break from thinking in terms of whether beings are _good_ or _bad,”_ Jinyoung said. “And start thinking about whether or not they’re telling _the truth.”_

And here, he cast a strange glance in Jaebeom’s direction. “Even to themselves,” he added quietly.

Jaebeom frowned, hiding his discomfort with a stretch as he leaned away from the table. He took a moment to breathe in deeply and calm his nerves, enjoying the breeze as the air was cooling with the sunset.

“Something stronger here, please,” he said quietly to the server, when she returned to place a hot kettle down with two mugs. The squat little lady gave an eyeroll even as she nodded, annoyed by an immediate, second trip to the kitchen.

Jinyoung, across from him and further from the smokey candlelight, shivered suddenly with another gust of wind. 

Jaebeom watched as he patted lightly at his cheeks and forehead with a corner of his sleeve. A sheen of sweat, apparently now cool to the touch, left his cheeks glowing in the pink light of evening. He peered off into the streets, looking deep in thought. 

Silence lingered around them, even as the waitress dropped off a bottle and smaller cups, and they started to drink together. It wasn’t uncomfortable, for the moment. 

Jinyoung was toying with his vow string. Fiddling. Rolling it under the pad of his thumb, back and forth across his wrist. Jaebeom noticed, from glancing askew for just a moment, that the skin there was flushed pink and a little raw.

Jaebeom didn’t want to pay attention to it — but here in the dusk, the magic thread was iridescent whenever it caught the candlelight, and it glimmered as it shifted around Jinyoung’s wrist like a fine chain. Jaebeom had to hold himself back from reaching across to still his hand.

“How should we circle back?” Jinyoung finally asked, and Jaebeom could only blink mutely back at him in surprise, gone too comfortable under the spell of silence. 

“Back... through all the orphanages again?” He muttered, struggling to shift focus.

“I mean, what else did the children have in common?” Jinyoung asked. “Besides being orphans.”

 _They will have no graves._ Jaebeom recounted the fox’s words with a wince. 

With no information gleaned from the orphanages, and a scarcity of physical evidence, it looked like there was little left to keep the investigation moving.

“Mark implied he could introduce us to another witness,” Jinyoung finally offered, tersely. “If we can just hear another account of what happened… maybe?”

Jaebeom’s spine went stiff, and Jinyoung stuck up a quick, condescending palm. “I just thought you ought to know,” he said, coolly. “I’m open to other suggestions, but we don’t exactly have any… more legitimate leads.”

Now, Jaebeom thought of BamBam, and the man who smelled like flowers. There wasn’t much credibility to that, but more infuriatingly, there was no obvious way he could ask Jinyoung to investigate flowers around Dongnae, without sounding like a madman. 

After how harsh he’d been with Jinyoung for working with Fae, how could he explain that he was getting intel from a ghost?

“Why was the last child…?” Jaebeom started to ask, but he let himself trail off when a dog nearby let out several sharp yelps.

Jaebeom took another breath, and then continued with his thought when it was quiet again, tracing the rim of his cup with a finger. “Why was the last child _not_ an orphan?” He asked. “There must have been something else connecting them, if he was an exception.”

Jinyoung tilted his head to one side in acknowledgement. His cheeks looked like they might have a little more color in them than usual.

Jaebeom tried not to notice.

But he noticed.

Suddenly, the yipping from earlier rang out louder than before, and Jaebeom watched in alarm as a little fluffy white dog raced around their table in a whirlwind. 

“Could it have been by zodiac?” Jinyoung asked calmly, not batting a lash. “They weren’t all the same age, but maybe it’s a range. Or maybe blood type?”

The dog leapt up then, crowding Jaebeom into sharing the little bench, and sniffed boldly at his cup.

“Oh no,” Jaebeom chuckled, moving the drink aside and offering it a gentle pat on the head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think this will suit your tastes.”

The dog let out a puff that sounded resigned, and its little tail flicked merrily against Jaebeom’s side. Jaebeom couldn’t hold back a smile. He’d always had a soft spot for animals, the first to feed street cats, and whistling to squirrels when they left behind crumbs.

He grinned back up at Jinyoung, as if to say: _look at this little guy!_

Jinyoung stared back at him in bewildered silence. 

Jaebeom’s smile faltered, but then the dog barked again, and Jaebeom turned back. “And just what do you want?” He exclaimed, mimicking its expression, even sticking his tongue out and panting back.

 _“Hunter Im,”_ Jinyoung’s sharp voice cut into the moment, and Jaebeom looked up to find his face pale, eyes wavering in confusion across the table. 

Jaebeom glanced between him and the dog then, unsure what felt suddenly so askew.

“Oh my stars,” another voice exclaimed, and Jaebeom and Jinyoung both turned to find a young man, pants tied up and leaning a long-handled net over his shoulder. A fisherman from the look of him, staring straight at the dog seated by Jaebeom.

“You can see my little Coco, too??” He asked Jaebeom, breaking into a bright smile.

Jaebeom’s heart lurched.

“I know, dogs leaving behind their spirit isn’t exactly... common,” the young man chuckled, and Coco bounded off the bench to circle around his feet. 

Jaebeom turned back to Jinyoung in horror, lips parted in helpless silence.

“But I think the fates could tell,” the fisherman continued. “Coco and I are soulmates.”

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions:**
> 
> ☾ baji: traditional korean pant/trousers, worn as part of the hanbok


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [honeyandcream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyandcream/pseuds/honeyandcream): 
> 
> thanks so much for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))

➶

“Jaebeom-” Jinyoung began, lips pursing and eyes pinching in at the corner like they always did when he was upset. But he must’ve finally used up all his bad luck from his previous life, because the fisherman continued before Jinyoung could finish whatever accusation was brewing on the tip of his tongue. 

“I have a friend like you if you’re willing to meet him? I think he needs more friends with their foot in the door-” he winked knowingly at Jaebeom, “so to speak.”

This seems only to irritate Jinyoung further, evident by the deepening furrow between his brows. Jaebeom was going to get an earful anyway, he might as well soften the blow with a useful lead. If there was a halfling nearby, they likely were more in-tune with any magical happenstance than even the most observant human could be- and could probably offer invaluable leads. Jaebeom makes up his mind. 

“I’d be delighted to meet him, if it isn’t too much trouble for you.” 

“Ah-, well as long as you two are willing to help me bring home today’s catches, it should be no trouble at all.” He flashed another blinding smile at Jaebeom, and it was almost enough to cancel out the frigid glare that Jaebeom could feel on the back of his head. Jinyoung was absolutely going to tear him apart the second they were left alone - it would be best to delay that for as long as possible. 

“We should get going before it gets too dark.” the fisherman said as he led them in the direction that he had made his entrance from. After a moment of walking, they came upon a cluster of buckets, all filled with fish. As the fisherman distributed the buckets between the three of them, Jinyoung broke his silence. 

“May I have your name?” 

Jaebeom knew this was a carefully constructed test; anyone involved with the unnatural would answer this _very_ carefully. 

Youngjae made a face. “Sorry, I didn’t even realise! My name is Choi Youngjae, and I’m a fisherman, but you probably already figured that out.” 

This seemed to satisfy Jinyoung, and he warily replied in turn. “You can call me Jinyoung and my companion Jaebeom.”

It’s a strange and paranoid way for one to introduce oneself, one that’s almost _exclusively_ taught to hunters as protection from the Fae. But Youngjae hadn’t even noticed, and this told them without a doubt that what he said to them was true. Most importantly: it told them that it was more than likely that whatever halfling “friend” he had, they have no Fae blood running through their veins. 

Jinyoung’s lack of further comment confirmed that he likely came to all the same conclusions that he had, and so they continued onwards to wherever Youngjae was leading them. 

It turned out to be a relatively small house, and Youngjae instructed them to set down their buckets of fish outside the door before ushering them inside, still carrying one of his own buckets. The inside of the house was modest, something to be expected from a fisherman, but as he glanced through the room something stood out. Hanging on the back wall was a silvery fur - the luxurious kind that Jaebeom knew cost years of a fisherman’s work. Youngjae followed his gaze. 

“Oh, that belongs to my companion. He must be in the garden out back. My friends, be seated, I will fetch him for you.” As soon as he was out of sight Jinyoung turned to Jaebeom, his calm facade fading in favour of irritation. 

“Is there something you need to tell me? Between your private audience with the Fae monarch, and your apparent ability to see spirits, it's almost enough to make me think...” He trails off as Youngjae steps back in, towing a taller man behind him. 

Jaebeom had always been thankful for his ability to remain inconspicuous, but it was obvious Youngjae’s friend had no such blessing. His build was nothing incredible; he looked to be about Jaebeom’s height, perhaps slightly taller, with the kind of whipcord muscles that came from frequent work. That’s where the normalcy stopped. 

The whole of his skin was tinted a cool grey and speckled with what almost looked like freckles. But the most unnerving part of his appearance by far was his eyes, the irises so large that they concealed the bulk of the whites, which were only visible in the corners. 

All this to say, Jaebeom had never seen anything like him. He had the unnatural and cool beauty of Fae, but it was softer, and he was missing the aura of power that made them so identifiable. What _was_ he? 

He turned to Jinyoung only to see his mouth slightly ajar, eyes wide. That was never a good sign. He was trying to figure out what to say to Youngjae and his friend, but they were one step ahead of him. Youngjae’s companion smiled, bowing slightly to introduce himself. 

“My name is Yugyeom, I live with Youngjae.”

Great. That told Jaebeom just about nothing. But something within that short sentence made Jinyoung’s eyes sparkle dangerously. 

“I’m Jinyoung,” he began with a charming smile, “and this is my partner, Jaebeom. You have a Korean name, are you from around here?” 

_Ah,_ Jaebeom thought, _he was trying to guess his species based on location._

“Not really. Youngjae gave me a human name.”

“A human name? Are you not human?” 

Jaebeom snorted at the obviousness of the question. He looked closer at his partner and saw that despite the pleasant smile on his face, Jinyoung’s eyes were grim and focussed. Yugyeom shifted uncomfortably, and Jaebeom had the sneaking suspicion he had caught onto Jinyoung’s ill mood. He wasn’t surprised, many with a connection to magic had natural empathic abilities. 

“No, I’m not human. I’ve been told that’s obvious. If you’re trying to fish for what I am, I couldn’t tell you. My kind isn’t from around here, there’s no word for us.” 

Jinyoung looked at Yugyeom challengingly. 

“If you’re from far enough that there is no word for _your kind_ , how did you even get here?” 

Yugyeom giggled. “I swam.” 

Gods almighty. Yugyeom may not be Fae, but he had the mischievousness down to an art. Unfortunately for Jaebeom, Jinyoung was his partner, not Yugyeom, and he didn’t seem nearly as amused. 

“You swam?” he deadpanned. 

“Yes, you know- when you like...” he trailed off in favour of miming out swimming. 

Jaebeom could almost see steam coming out of Jinyoung’s overlarge ears, and he had to pinch himself to keep from laughing. Youngjae had no such qualms, throwing back his head to laugh loudly. 

“Thank you-” Jinyoung gritted out, ears pink. “I know what swimming is.” 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Yugyeom said. “I was beginning to get a little worried. If you don’t mind, I'm going to borrow your partner.” 

“For what?” Jinyoung continued glaring down Yugyeom, who seemed about as impressed as he’d be faced with an angry kitten . 

“I want to talk to him without you feeling the need to butt in.” 

Jaebeom sensed that now would be a good time to make his escape before Jinyoung decided to ring Yugyeom's neck. 

“Yugyeom, where would you like to talk?” he interjected. 

“Would you mind helping me in the garden while we talk?”

“Not at all.” Jaebeom shot Jinyoung a tight smile before following Yugyeom out the door and to the back of the house, where a garden lay in wait. 

It was obvious that Yugyeom and Youngjae had put a lot of work into it, evident by the neat rows of vegetables and meticulously weeded beds. Yugyeom led him to a far corner of the garden, sitting and patting the ground for Jaebeom to join him. 

“There isn’t really anything much to do, but I wanted to get you away from your partner so we could talk more freely.”

“Oh - thank you?” 

“Does he not know you’re a halfling? He seems a little... close-minded.” 

Jaebeom couldn’t help but feel a little offended on Jinyoung’s behalf. 

“No, he doesn’t know. But I think he was caught off guard because neither of us really know anything about your kind, he’s usually much more charming.” 

“He doesn’t know? Are you going to tell him? Didn’t he watch you talk to a ghost dog?” 

Jaebeom pouts and tries to push down the embarrassment rising in his stomach. If he _knew_ the dog was a ghost he wouldn’t have talked to it, who even had a ghost dog anyway? 

Yugyeom laughed, and Jaebeom’s eyes caught on his mouth. The flash of teeth he saw looked different, but he didn’t parse enough, in the briefness of his glimpse, to be quite sure why. Yugyeom followed his gaze and smiled.

“You noticed my teeth! Youngjae said they’re hardly noticeable among everything else, but I told him they’re too interesting to ignore.” 

Despite his halfling status, Jaebeom was still a hunter, and he wanted to learn everything he can about Yugyeom’s yet undocumented species. 

“Can I look at them closely?” 

Yugyeom preens. “Of course!” 

He opened his mouth and tilted his head back a little, and Jaebeom realised with ease that it was Yugyeom’s canines that had caught his eye. They were longer than a normal person’s, and looking behind them Jaebeom saw that he had no molars, or at least none that looked like a human’s. The teeth in the back of his mouth were jagged and sharp-looking. At least it would be easy to identify anyone like Yugyeom, because he’s sure the Order had never seen anything like this. 

“Other than your appearance, is there anything that makes you different from humans?” 

“In this form? Only my gifts, but they’re pretty run-of-the-mill. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had all of the same ones.” 

"Gifts? I don't think I have any."

"Of course you do, your aura is extremely potent, there's no way you can't do anything with all of that."

"If I do have-,” Jaebeom paused, “gifts, I don't know how to use them." 

Yugyeom seemed unfazed.

"That's fine. I'm more than happy to attempt to teach you, though I'm not really sure how effective of a teacher I'll be." 

"At this point, I'm sure anything would help. But I don't even know what kind of gifts are common among halflings. What do I do then?” 

"I think it'll be something that has to do with reading energy. It's a pretty simplistic and common ability, all you really need is some sort of connection to the mystic. What kind of specific reading you can do depends on what species your non-human half is.” 

“It’s…” Jaebeom trails off. Is it really wise to reveal this to someone who is a practical stranger? But the help that Yugyeom is offering could be invaluable. Can he afford to turn that down? No, he can’t. 

“I’m half Fae,” he sighs. 

"Oh, that makes this pretty easy." Jaebeom looked up, eyes wide. 

"Easy?" he echoed. 

"Yes, the Fae can only tell the truth. I don't know if that pertains to you, but your gift is likely tied to that of your basic nature. "

"I'll be able to tell when people are lying?" 

"That would be the simplest manifestation of your gift. If you're nearly as powerful as your aura makes you seem, you'll likely be able to take if further. What that means, I'm not quite sure, but I'll try to help all I can." He smiled kindly at Jaebeom. 

"Are you okay with us starting now?" Jaebeom nodded nervously and he reached out to take Jaebeom's hands into his own.

"Have you ever used any gift as a halfling?" 

"Never on purpose."

"That's fine. You remember the feeling?"

"Yes." That was the understatement of the millennium. The outbursts of his power were burnt into his memory. Even now, he was nervous to try to use them on purpose. 

“Lean into the feeling, try to keep it pushed to the front of your mind.” Jaebeom took a deep breath, pulling at the threads of his mind where his memory felt the echoes of his power. To his surprise, it wasn’t an uncomfortable or strange sensation. Rather, he felt as if his whole body let out a breath it had been holding his whole life. He smiled shakily at Yugyeom. 

“I’m going to start talking. Try to tell me whether what I say is the truth or not.” Jaebeom nodded, closing his eyes in an attempt to concentrate better. 

“I had fish for breakfast,” he looked expectantly at Jaebeom. 

“Nothing changed.” Yugyeom seemed relieved by that.

“Good, I was telling the truth. That’s our touchstone. Let’s try doing a few at a time, one will be the lie.” 

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel when you lie,” Jaebeom said with a grimace.

“I’m not quite sure either. I’m the youngest in my family, I can cook...” Jaebeom felt his throat tighten, before Yugyeom continued, “and Youngjae is my closest friend.” The tension dissipated. 

“You - you can’t cook, that’s the lie?” Yugyeom grinned triumphantly. 

“You caught on really fast! We probably don’t even need to practice anymore, if you don’t want to.”

“I feel pretty good about this, and the less time I make Jinyoung wait the better.”

“Sounds good to me, should we go back in?” They stood and dusted themselves off, whilst Jaebeom wondered how worried he ought to be about Jinyoung being angry. 

As they walked in, Jinyoung didn’t even look at them. Jaebeom sat next to him and tried to resist the urge to react to the palpable annoyance. He failed. 

Yugyeom’s eyebrows pinched together before he broke the tense silence that had settled over the four. “Youngjae, I think something dug up a few of the vegetables, will you come look?” 

As Yugyeom and Youngjae made their way out, Jinyoung snapped around to glare at Jaebeom.

“Jinyoung-” Jaebeom preemptively interrupted, feeling his heartbeat echoing through his body. “I need to tell you something.” 

Whatever Jinyoung had expected, this didn’t seem to be it. He nodded for Jaebeom to go on. 

“I’m-,” Jinyoung waited expectantly, but by the grim set of his mouth, Jaebeom had a feeling he already knew the end to that sentence.

“A halfling,” he finished. 

Jinyoung let out a trembling breath, and Jaebeom realised they were close enough for him to feel it against his face. He watched as Jinyoung flashed through emotions, before settling on something akin to anger. 

His eyes met Jaebeom’s own, and he could almost feel the burn of Jinyoung’s anger. 

“What’s the rest of you?” 

Jaebeom’s stomach dropped. 

“Fae.” He looked down at his lap, feeling irrational fears welling up. Jinyoung stood up, the sound of his heavy steps jarring in the quiet of the house. 

“I’m going on a walk. Don’t leave and don’t follow me.” His voice was steely, leaving no room for argument. 

Jaebeom watched agitated, as Jinyoung stormed out. He put his face in his hands, trying to squash the tight feeling in his throat. Should he listen to Jinyoung?

He had no clue when he’d be back, if he came back at all. And on top of that, Jinyoung’s temper could make him reckless. 

He made up his mind, taking off to follow Jinyoung. 

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays, everyone ☃️


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [minhukie:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelogicoftaste/pseuds/minhyukie)
> 
> hi everyone 👋 thank you so much for reading! this has been a really thrilling challenge, both in terms of writing and managing it - and i'm super proud of the content we've been able to produce from start to finish. i really hope that you guys enjoy reading as much as i have! thank you to all the participating writers for your enthusiasm, cheerleading, and innovation, and creativity, you're the best 😚
> 
> ☾ please see end notes for definitions!

➶

Jinyoung, for all that he affected a loose-limbed detachment at the best of times, was quick on his feet at the most inopportune times. Jaebeom’s minutes of deliberation had cost him the lead upon leaving the inn. 

The street strung up and down across from him, narrow and bustling with ox-carts kicking up the ground soil of the road, was a maze. Jaebeom followed every flutter of po in the deep colours he remembered Jinyoung’s overcoat to be. 

In the end, the path he ended up on grew paler in colour and sparser in people, with weeds overgrowing in from either side. Jaebeom’s blood thundered under his skin, a low simmering anxiety that had not left him since the first shuttering of Jinyoung’s gaze. 

What’s the rest of you, he’d said. _What’s the rest of you._ Had his mouth curled as he spoke? Was his reproach threaded with revulsion? Would he revoke his partnership, now? Bow in front of their masters, and their oaths under The Order, and the Bureau—. Jaebeom stopped. Corralling his spinning thoughts, he wiped his hands over his chest, throat clicking with every swallow. 

The moon was a pale slither behind the clouds and Jaebeom was alone on the road leading up to the cove of forestry, stretching from the village to tuck up against the tall city walls of the nearest town. Ahead of him, was a ri-stone with deep-set etched directions. Jaebeom traced his fingers over the characters, bumping over moss and weather-roughened rock. 

The forest was less than five ri away, and indeed, he could see the spindly sun-baked branches with their heavy bunches rising up in the distance, where the path dipped down into the low entrance to the cove. He would not be able to find his companion this way. And there’d be nothing more bone-headed than losing his bearings in a strange forest before the nightfall. Jinyoung would surely have his head for that.

Tentatively, Jaebeom pulled his sleeve back, revealing his tightly-woven hunter's bracelet. It had lied still and dormant for most of their journey, but his and Jinyoung’s separation had furnished it with a low-level, mundane energy. Jaebeom touched the tips of his two latter fingers to the tip of his thumb, muttered a low incantation, before touching the bracelet. A light, as pale and wan as the rising moon, pulsed around it with the command for just a moment, and then it snuffed out like a flame. Message conveyed. 

Jaebeom had barely settled on his haunches before a little bulb of light emerged from his wrist and settled in front of his nose. It juddered with Jinyoung’s impatience, but maintained a steady distance and visibility as Jaebeom followed it to its master. 

➴

Jaebeom heard the rush of water before he saw it. The trees grew further apart, and then the stream appeared, gaped between two slopes of earth like a wound. And Jinyoung, baji rolled up to his knees, boots and layers discarded on the bank, so that he remained only in his intimate layers. 

Throat burning, Jaebeom stopped by the sloping bank, and watched aimlessly as Jinyoung’s forearms, dipped in the stream, moved and stiffened. 

“I remember telling you not to follow me,” Jinyoung said first. “Are you incapable of following orders, Hunter Im?” 

“If I were, I would not be here.” 

“Oh yes, I forgot,” Jinyoung said blithely, washing his hands methodically under the water. “Your blind devotion to Senior Nickhun. Tell me, do your Masters know how much you’re willing to lay down to serve a debt.”

Jaebeom unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and ignored the insult. “I meant following the lighted guide you sent, Jinyoung.”

This, at least, seemed to give the other man some pause. Only for a moment, though, before he strode out of the stream in wide, sloshing paces. He passed by Jaebeom, snatching up his bundle of things to settle on a smooth sitting rock.

“Don’t sulk,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “It’s unbecoming.” 

“Sulk?” Jinyoung balked. He threw his belongings off of his lap. “I am incensed _.  _ We have been drifting in the middle of nowhere, with a gargantuan target on our backs, due to  _ your _ circumstance, without my prior knowledge to even prepare for it.” 

“You  _ knew.”  _

“I  _ suspected,”  _ Jinyoung snapped, and it seemed to shock him back into calm. He took in a deep, staggering breath, wisps of hair tumbling out from his sangtu to fall about his ears and flushed cheeks. “Somehow, I was foolish enough to rely on your simpleton routine and believe you’d have the gall to put on a front to me.”

“I did not lie to you,” Jaebeom replied, failing to loosen the grind of his molars, “just because I did not lay out my entire history.” 

“I told you mine.” 

The trees around them shivered in the near silence, water gushed through the parted earth.

“You did. Though you still have your secrets.” 

“I suppose you’d think so,” Jinyoung sneered. It faded quickly though, barely any heat behind it. He used his po to dry his legs. “At least I was honest about my deviancy. You expected nothing less.”

He took out his charmed travelling pouch, rooting around until he could find a rolled up pair of socks. Jaebeom watched him re-dress, until he was stuffing one foot in each boot. 

Jaebeom shifted his stance. “Fortunately,” he said. “My deviancy is sufficiently managed so as not to attract you any more trouble.” 

Jinyoung rolled his eyes, smoothing down his baji with practiced motions. “I don't care that you are Fae—”

_ “Half—”  _

_“Whatever_ _proportion_ you deem fit to your delicate sensibilities, Hunter Im,” Jinyoung said. He gathered his dirtied po and stuffed it in his travelling pouch, marching past Jaebeom. “Did everyone know? Bar me?” 

“No.” Jaebeom followed, wary of their descent deeper into the woods. “Surprisingly, it’s not something I deem to advertise.” 

“Is that why you had an audience with the Fae’s monarch?” 

“This again?” He couldn’t see Jinyoung’s face, but there was an unmistakable line of tension across his shoulder. “They were asking if I would be willing to sacrifice you, actually.” 

Jinyoung shot an acerbic glare over his shoulder, mouth twisted in distaste. 

“I said yes,” Jaebeom smiled, ducking around a low-hanging branch. “If you were wondering.” 

“I’m sure they found that hilarious.” 

Jaebeom took in their surroundings, thick-troubled trees striking out of the ground. The sun’s waning light found no home here. “No less than your Mark.” 

Jinyoung laughed, low and dangerous. “Are you jealous?” 

Jaebeom’s step faltered, and he caught himself on the rough-hewn bark of the closest tree, damp with humidity.  _ Was he— _

“You’re welcome to him,” Jinyoung continued, marching onwards, shoulders drawn up tight against his ears. 

But Jaebeom had not continued to listen, blood churning in his ears.  _ Oh.  _ He thought, light-headed.  _ He meant— _

“Are you coming or not?” Jinyoung hollered, disappeared as he was between the trees. 

Jaebeom did not deign to answer that. He pushed himself off of the tree and followed Jinyoung’s footsteps. 

The trees curved outwards in either direction, opening up a clearing no more than twenty paces wide. Jinyoung was at the very edge of it, hovering in the shadows of the forest as he cast his gaze over the contents in front of him. 

There were littered rocks, tufts of grass half un-buried, and in the centre, there was a pile of smooth, perfectly cleaned bones. 

Jaebeom sucked in a sharp breath, hand darting out to grip Jinyoung around the arm as soon as he made to move. He fell against Jaebeom’s chest with a sharp wheeze, the warmth of his skin burning through his single, flimsy tunic. 

“It could be spelled.”

“It’s not.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do. I have already examined this.” He squirmed out of Jaebeom’s hold, passing the back of his hand over his neck to chase away the hair teasing at the exposed skin. He stepped into the clearing. “These are animal bones.” 

The knot in Jaebeom’s chest loosened a chi. “How can you be sure?” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “Tastes different.” 

Jaebeom caught his gaze sharply, but there was nothing more than a self-satisfied smile hovering over Jinyoung’s mouth. 

“Funny.” 

“One of us has to be.” He crouched near the pile. “The shape is all different, and too big besides, to belong to a child. Enough blood over there,” he nodded towards a darkened spot beneath a jutting rock, “to have come from a cattle breed.”

Jaebeom approached him carefully. “Were you able to find anything else?” 

“No,” he said, using a discarded twig to poke at the pile. “I got the blood all over my clothes, so I headed to the stream. Then I received your message and awaited you.” 

“Were you planning on informing me of what you’d found, or just leave me to fester in the inn.” 

“Don’t be melodramatic,” Jinyoung said, rolling his eyes, “it’s  _ unbecoming _ .” He threw the stick towards the bones and stood. “I knew you’d follow me.”

“How did you know?” 

Jinyoung ignored him. “We don’t have much time until nightfall, and I would prefer not having to investigate by talisman light. I will take the East.” 

They worked in silence for a while, but Jaebeom’s nape smarted, unease trickling down his spine. By the time his eyes started to dry with each blink, he was cranky and dirty. Night had just started to fall proper, turquoise shimmering in the yellowing light of burning bujeok slips hovering above their heads. 

“Let’s call it a day,” Jaebeom suggested, just loud enough to carry over the clearing. His stomach had begun to churn in emptiness. “I don’t think there’s anything here.” 

There was no answer from the other side, just the rummaging of Jinyoung’s hands in the overgrown bushes. 

“Jinyoung?” 

He waited no more than a beat, before he spun around. His words caught in his throat, at Bambam standing stock still over Jinyoung’s crouched position. 

“I found—” Jinyoung was saying, unaware, as he dug his fingers into the soil, bringing up chunks of it up until there was nothing but soft mush exposed to the sky. There were a bunch of wilting white flowers on a dark stem. “This is asphodel, I think.”

Bambam stared at Jinyoung like there was nothing there but damp air and soil, like he could see right through him. Eyes blank, completely ephemeral in form, and silent - almost as if he wasn’t there at all. He was a ghost of course, but there was a missing substantiality to him. And then, Jinyoung’s words registered. 

“You found what?” 

“Here,” he said. “Half dug into the ground. There are some tender stems here too, but they’re dry and brittle. Possibly picked a while ago.” 

Jaebeom darted a look back up to Bambam, but the boy hadn’t moved at all. He was still staring listlessly as Jinyoung shuffled on the balls of his feet in front of him. 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom said, and then pasted a look of assurance on his face when he met his eyes. “Come here. Let’s go find somewhere to camp overnight.” 

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed instantly. With a fistful of dirt he turned back, peering into the cove of trees beyond Bambam’s spectre, his hand was already hovering close to his pocket of instruments. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” 

Dark eyes, golden-black under the bujeok’s light, pinned him down. “What do you  _ see,  _ Jaebeom?” 

He weighed out his options, heartbeat rabbiting against his chest bone. Bambam didn’t look dangerous, but there was an off step to his countenance. Ghosts could turn, Jaebeom knew that. At any moment, Bambam could turn and he wouldn’t have enough time to subdue him. 

“Come to me,” he said to Jinyoung. “And I will tell you.”

“The asphodel—” 

“We will seek it again tomorrow.” 

Jinyoung stood abruptly. BamBam’s head followed at a sedate pace, and his body followed his vexed strides across the clearing, teetering three chi above the ground and wafting forwards like a paper lantern pulled on a string. 

“If that evidence disappears tomorrow,” Jinyoung bit out, face like thunder, “there is no stricture nor hunter that will save you from me.”

Jaebeom barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Jinyoung stormed past him with his nose tipped high and a ghost trailing him. But then—Bambam stopped, clean in front of Jaebeom. He still had that blank gaze, looking through him like their roles had reversed. 

Turning slowly, Jaebeom watched the ghost out of the corner of his eye. He matched him pace for pace, like the spun sugar of a road-side vendor sticking to a fur stole. Bambam followed him the whole path to Jinyoung, where he’d begun to set up camp close to the stream. 

Slowly, the ghost seemed to unstick himself from whatever enchantment befell it. He drifted closer and closer to the ground, until he was taking steps, and the distance between him and Jaebeom wavered too. 

Jinyoung had picked a spot behind a squat rock, close enough to the bank to hear the rush of water, but somewhat protected from the elements. He washed his hands in the stream and then returned to roll out his sleeping cloak on a gathering of mushy-topped moss. 

“You haven’t eaten yet,” Jaebeom pointed out. 

“I’m not going to go foraging now,” Jinyoung replied. “I can go without for one night.” 

They started a quick fire and Jinyoung perched on the edge of his cloak, as close to it as he could get without sitting on the naked ground. He was still in his undershirt, pretending not to shiver. 

“Here,” Jaebeom said, bringing out a wrapped parcel from his travelling pouch and tossing it over. 

Jinyoung barely caught it. He turned it in his hands and then unwrapped it carefully, short fingernails digging into the knot. He paused, seeing the contents.

“You brought me food,” he said, flat. 

Jaebeom shared an unreciprocated commiserating look with the ghost over his shoulder. “I got some for my journey but didn’t end up eating it after all.” 

A moment passed, Jinyoung’s features thrown into contrast by the campfire. It went on for so long that awkwardness began to gnaw at Jaebeom’s stomach and the base of his throat. 

“Where’s yours?” Jinyoung asked, and took a tiny flake, barely anything, off of the corner of the sesame-topped stuffed bread and brought it to his lips. 

“I already had mine.” 

Jinyoung licked a stray sesame seed from his thumb. “You’re as bad a liar as you are a fighter.” 

The corner of Jaebeom’s mouth twitched. He remembered only the heat of anger wrapped around his head, the jaunde’s hard floors against his straining limbs, Jinyoung sprawled over him, his sharp inhalation with Jaebeom’s hands over his hips, and Rain, of course, violence writ across the cut of him as he ripped them apart. “I hit you pretty hard, I think.” 

“Invoke Boddhisattva enough times and you might even start to believe it.” 

Jaebeom let the silence settle between them. Jinyoung took small careful bites of the bread, around and around one of the edges until he got to the filling. 

“I guess we’re even?” Jaebeom ventured. The meaning, of course, reached further than the meal. And then, because he didn’t know when to keep quiet, he blurted around a brittle laugh, “As long as you don’t report me to the Order.” 

Jinyoung’s eyes sharpened, a prickly hedgehog with an axe to grind. “And what would that do? The stars above know that most hunters that survive a full zodiac cycle have a tenuous connection to the purity of being just human. I’m many things, Jaebeom, but I’m not a snitch.” 

“I know. That’s—not what I meant.” 

Jinyoung didn’t push more, which in itself was surprising and not in equal measure. But he did curl into himself; a hedgehog, curled around its soft belly. When he’d taken his last bite of the bread, with half of it left, Jinyoung carefully rewrapped it and threw it back over the fire. 

Jaebeom fumbled but he caught it. 

“Don’t argue,” Jinyoung said. “Now, tell me what you saw in the clearing.” 

➴

“Where is it now?” Jinyoung asked after Jaebeom finished the last of their meal and his explanation. He had curled his fingers into his sleeves, pulling the threadbare linen across his knuckles. “Is it still here?” 

“Can you not sense it?” Jaebeom asked. “The disturbance in the air.”

“Not everyone is gifted with preternatural abilities.” 

“Sure,” Jaebeom replied dryly, with a barely suppressed scoff.  _ Gifted.  _ “Try to see where the ghost is.” 

Surprisingly, that was all it took for Jinyoung to close his eyes. He went still for a long few moments, hands draped over his knees in a crossed position. 

He breathed deeply as he concentrated, and pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. A minute more passed. But then, there was his characteristic frown. 

“I can’t—”

“You can,” Jaebeom interrupted. Bambam’s form waived listlessly beside him. “Relax the tension in your shoulder, and in your jaw. Empty your thoughts before you try to expand your perception.” 

Jinyoung sighed with impatience, but he followed his instructions, face going slack, softened around the edges. After another veil of silence, his mouth parted, pink tongue darting out to lick at the corner. His face turned just a breath away, turned to the left, just a bit more and he would grasp it. 

Jinyoung’s eyes flew open, finding Jaebeom immediately. 

“This is useless,” he complained. “I couldn’t sense anything at all. Let me do a summoning.” 

“No.” 

“You’re so bull-headed. All your caution makes you slower than an ox. If it takes a lifetime until we get to the bottom of this hunt, I’ll know who to blame.”

“I’ll speed up my process if it means I’m not stuck being your partner for a lifetime, shall I?” 

Jinyoung’s mouth shut with a clack. They stared at each other. His face had an inscrutable expression that Jaebeom couldn’t place. It made self-consciousness prickle at him. “What?”

Jinyoung stood up firmly. “I’m going to wash my robes.” 

He was gone by the time Jaebeom got his bearings. 

➴

When he returned, the fire had started to settle into glowing embers. 

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom said, watching him cut across their darkened camp. “Does this hunt seem strange to you?” 

Jinyoung arranged himself on his cloak, wet po draped over a stone closer to the fire, and began to unpick his hair from the sangtu atop his head. 

“Stranger than several children going missing at the same time?” 

He laid everything out on his lap, the plain black manggeon strapped across his forehead, his pin. And then his hair unfurled in his hand, and dropped in rivulets over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Jaebeom said, watching crooked fingers run through hair across a hazy fire. “Children do often go missing but… this is a hell of coincidence, right?” 

The fingers stopped. Jinyoung looked through the heat right into Jaebeom. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he started. “I mean  _ everything. _ We’re only a mountain side away from where the gumiho was, but now—now there are ghosts, and a clearing that drenched you in blood, and a being from so far away that we don’t even have a name for it.”

“It’s not,” Jinyoung chose his words carefully, “uncommon.” 

“But all at once?” 

“It’s a little unprecedented,” Jinyoung agreed. “Do you think the one from yesterday had something to do with it?”

He doesn’t need to clarify which  _ one _ he meant. His coolness at the restaurant earlier in the day accounted for that. 

“I don’t know,” Jaebeom sighed. He didn’t think so, but his reading of the supernatural was weak and uncultivated. Yugyeom was a calm presence, attentive towards Jaebeom’s plight. Perhaps,  _ he seems like a nice person  _ was not the most convincing conclusion of affairs. “Do you think we’re close to the source?” 

He mulled this over. “I think so. At least, we may have found where they’re gathering the asphodel. Though there’s not much of it left here.” 

“Perhaps they have moved to find it elsewhere?” 

“Or stopped altogether.” Jinyoung looked at him. “There have been no more abductions. Nor any word from the Bureau.” 

“They will be looking for the nobleman’s child,” Jaebeom said. “As priority.” 

Jinyoung cut him a look. 

“What?” 

“Priority?” Jinyoung scoffed. “Is there room for priority if the task is only limited to one? They will not be looking for paupers’ children. And we both know they’d happily let us take the fall for a messy closure to the hunt.” 

“Jinyoung—”

“You have  _ seen _ how they take more and more from us with each passing moon. Word of discontent spreads so fast I’d be surprised if we were welcomed into village inns by the next emperor.” 

“The Crown Prince seems more favourable to us. He hired the Order for this after all.”

“Calling upon his hunting dogs in a crisis is not most indicative of favourableness,” Jinyoung said with a dismissive glance. “But at least I know I won’t be out of a job so soon.” 

“Is that what you want?”

“If I survive,” he said. And then wryly. “Or elude arrest.” 

“Your fox has muddled the situation even more so.” 

Jinyoung resumed the brushing of his hair. “He’s not  _ my  _ fox. There’s no trust between us.” 

“Not now he’s made you a wanted man?” 

Jaebeom tossed a grin over the way. It returned, but with something tense about the line of Jinyoung’s mouth. 

“Not in a while.” And then he stuck his manggeon band between his lips and turned his gaze away. He snuck two hands across his nape and pulled up his hair, twisting quickly and cleanly into a knot. 

When he was done, Jinyoung stood and shook out his cloak. “I’ll take first watch.”

➴

Hours into his own watch, Jaebeom sipped at his water flask and watched Bambam come back to himself. 

Jinyoung was sleeping, curled up into himself underneath his cloak and Jaebeom’s own fleece-lined po. He’d laid it over him, when he was sure he was asleep, and now, as Jinyoung nosed into it, he didn’t know what to feel about it. 

He watched and he watched. The sunrise began to break over the treetops and then: “Ahjussi?” 

“You’re back,” Jaebeom said in greeting, he looked at the ghost before he darted a quick glance over at Jinyoung, still sleeping soundly.

“What’s that smell?” Bambam circuited around the camp, hesitating before the way towards yesterday’s clearing. 

Jaebeom’s heart rate picked up, though he tried to seem unaffected in voice, “Describe it to me.” 

The ghost swayed in place, blinking in and out of solidity. “Like flowers,” Bambam said. “Like herbs. The poultice. It smells like that.” And then quieter, almost to himself. “The children liked it.”

“The—the  _ children? _ Which children? Where?” 

He didn’t get an answer for a long time. The ghost turned to him, vacant-eyed. Bambam blinked, he seemed abruptly more aware and then confused, then he pouted and opened his mouth. 

“ _ Ahjussi!”  _ he exclaimed. “You didn’t tell me you were going to be disappearing.” 

Jaebeom let out a heavy sigh. He had switched tack completely. “You follow me everywhere I go. Why should I tell you anything?” 

“There’s no need to be rude.” 

“Where did you go?” Jaebeom asked, watching as Bambam took in their surroundings. He wondered if he remembered what had just happened. 

The boy scratched at his neck, right over the criss-crossed stitches marching along the seam of it. Jaebeom couldn’t help the revulsion that rolled through him. Bambam seemed unaffected. 

“Go?” 

“Yes. Where?” 

“It’s cold, isn’t it?” 

Jaebeom paused. “You can’t feel the cold.” 

Bambam looked at him, his eyes narrowed in slyness as his grin stretched, “But your friend can. That’s  _ your _ coat, Ahjussi.” 

“Bambam—”

In a flash, Bambam was hovering over Jinyoung’s sleeping form. Jaebeom followed like it was a compulsion, hand over his pocketed hunting instruments. 

Bambam peered in close to Jinyoung’s face, so close that Jinyoung’s nose twitched in sleep. “Should I tell him?” 

“Tell him what?” 

“Or…” Bambam continued, and stopped still. “Oh, does he  _ know?  _ Is that why you sent me away? Did you—? Ahjussi, that’s so brazen.” 

Jaebeom grit his teeth, the very beginnings of a pressure headache oozing down his temple. “Be quiet.” 

“It’s quite alright,” Bambam sighed, he fluttered out of visibility, returning draped over a log. “I’m a modern man, you see. I know about these things.” He darted a look at Jaebeom and waggled his eyebrows. 

_ “Bambam,”  _ Jaebeom said through his teeth, fingers curling into his palm to prevent him from making use of one of his banishing spells. “Tell me about the children.” 

“Children?” 

Jaebeom was going to explode. “Bambam,” he repeated. “The children in the village. With the poultice bag of flowers.” 

“Oh,” Bambam tinkered a laugh, tinged with unease. “The men, the men—I told you about that already.” 

“Tell me again.”

“Ahjussi,” Bambam implored. He blinked out and then he was back again at Jaebeom’s feet. “I don’t remember. I really don’t.” 

“Try.” 

“You’re worse than my noona,” the ghost pinched his brows close together. “Really, you are. Who knows what I did even yesterday. I only remember the smell of the flowers and then I was here. And—” he stiffened. “Your friend is awake.” 

Jaebeom looked over at Jinyoung, and true enough, his eyes were opened and fixed on where Bambam had tossed himself over his knees. 

He blinked, limbs heavy beneath his sleeping aids. 

Gravel-voiced, he asked, “Who are you talking to?” 

“The ghost. He’s—” Jaebeom looked down, but Bambam was already gone. He sighed.

Jinyoung laughed. “Has he left you already?” 

“Prickly things, these ghosts,” Jaebeom said, for lack of anything better to say. He was distinctly aware of his po draped over Jinyoung. He’d meant to take it back before the other man awoke.

Jinyoung sat up, stretching out limb after limb and Jaebeom’s coat doubled over into his lap. It was clear when he noted its presence, surprise flickering over his features. 

He ran his fingers over the material, then glanced at Jaebeom from under his lashes, avoiding his eyes. Finally, he cleared his throat and stood, po pooling at his feet as he stepped over it. “I’m going to wash up.”

➴

The clearing from yesterday still clung to the early morning due by the time they’d returned to it. 

A distant bird’s morning call shimmered in the relative silence between them. Jinyoung’s pile of earth, beside the asphodel plant, was still there. 

He crouched down beside it. “You think this is what he smelled, your ghost?” 

“Remembered, most likely,” Jaebeom said. He moved to stand just over him. “Ghosts can’t smell.” 

Jinyoung hummed, touching a twig to the tender white petal jutting out of the plant. “The closer we seem to get, the more it feels like we haven’t moved at all.” 

He looked tired and wearied. Jaebeom guessed he looked much the same. “We should try and revisit the village today.” 

“For the orphanages?” 

“No, the restaurant,” Jaebeom said. “I wonder if Youngjae and Yugyeom can tell us a bit more. I think—maybe, he was attracted to the village because of some excess of spiritual power.” 

Jinyoung turned to peer up at him, “What makes you think—,” he tipped backward, overbalanced, and gripped at Jaebeom’s loose baji firmly, bringing him tumbling down over him. 

Their heads knocked together, and Jinyoung hissed a sharp breath through his teeth. When Jaebeom’s head stopped spinning, he realised their position. 

Jinyoung’s strong thighs bracketed his own, his knuckles pressed branded heat through his thin trousers. And their faces were so close together, as Jinyoung supported his weight on his elbows, that they shared the same air; their noses brushed together.

Neither moved for a crucial moment. Jinyoung’s wide-eyed stare on his own. Then Jinyoung’s gaze fluttered down and Jaebeom immediately startled back, like he was snapped back into common sense. 

He leaned back on his haunches, breathed deeply, and resolutely did not think about anything in particular. 

Jinyoung's lips pressed together and then loosened. “At least help me up,” he muttered, the usual derision back in his voice.

Jaebeom extended out a hand to help his companion from his sprawl. 

Jinyoung took his hand at the same moment he darted his gaze over Jaebeom’s shoulder. His eyes widened, as his face went slack, “What the fuck?”

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions**
> 
> ☾ po - traditional overcoat, worn as part of the hanbok  
> ☾ ri - a unit of measurement (e.g. kind of like a mile)  
> ☾ ri-stone - to mark out distances on long roads  
> ☾ baji - traditional korean pant/trousers, worn as part of the hanbok  
> ☾ chi - a unit of distance traditionally derived from the length a human handspan)  
> ☾ bujeok slips - talismans  
> ☾ sangtu - a topknot, a traditional men's hairstyle  
> ☾ manggeon band - a headband that would be paired up with a sangtu


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [yerims:](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerims/pseuds/yerims:)
> 
> hiii <3 it was so fun for me being a part of this, writing with very familiar names in our lil ahgase fic family! all the love to tania for managing it so amazingly. i’ve loved every bit of this story so far, here’s an extra dose of magic & mystery & our sweet, sweet yugyeom
> 
> i hope u enjoy it <3

➶

Shoes.

Children’s shoes, dangling. All Jaebeom felt was fear.

He had much to expect: another six-tailed fox, a half-naked Fae, even a wild bear. He had one hand on the familiar bone grip of his sword. He had his other one still holding Jinyoung.

But there was no monster. Only his trail.

And Jaebeom had seen a lot in his life. But he never felt dread in his gut quite like this before.

They were just children’s shoes. Little straw-weaved jipsin bearing marks of worn, tied to a dirtied, rotting rope, dangling from the lowest branch of a tree. In fact, it took Jaebeom a few extra seconds to see them. They swayed gently with the morning breeze, inconspicuous, teasingly camouflaged in the warm landscape. _Just children’s shoes._

Why did they feel so much?

➴

Jinyoung was silent the whole time Jaebeom took to retrieve them. He had clumsily scrambled up the tree to get high enough to slice the rope. Jinyoung hadn’t moved by the time Jaebeom climbed back down, either. His gaze was stiff upon their newfound gift, now sitting on the Earth, but he didn’t seem to have any intention to get any closer.

Jaebeom ignored him. He didn’t feel much better himself, but he didn’t want to press. He picked the shoes up, hesitantly, as if expecting a curse to unleash itself upon him, and bind him to this grief forever.

But nothing happened. Jaebeom wished he believed any other reason they were there. A practical prank? Perhaps, a parent’s odd punishment for a mischievous child. Who would do this? Strange people didn’t have to be bad. _And the children could still be alive._

The shoes were only about as big as his hand. Loose, tattered pieces of straw bled away from them. Jaebeom swallowed uncomfortably.

“Can I…” he heard Jinyoung’s voice and accompanying footfalls from behind. Weak, defeated, not like the usual hasty steps he was used to. “Can I see them?”

Jaebeom handed them over without a word.

“You don’t think—it could be—”

“Let’s bring them back to the village,” Jaebeom suggested, trying to keep his voice steady. “The villagers might know whose they are.” Pause. Then, “This might just be a coincidence.” _And the children could still be alive._

Jinyoung took a hard look at his face. All the anger and pain and despair from the case—it shone in his eyes. Glassy, round, and really, _fucking_ spiteful.

“The Order doesn’t believe in coincidences,” he said quietly, an edge of taunt swirling in his words, sticking to the humid air uncomfortably. As if daring him to argue, to say something else. Anything. Tell him that he got it wrong, or better yet, that the Order made a mistake.

Jaebeom never knew how to do that. Unlike Jinyoung, he never selected parts of the Order to like, to keep, to _be._ He bowed fully before it. It was all or nothing—and Jaebeom never saw himself as anything less than a whole.

But something about Jinyoung’s demeanour has changed. And Jaebeom understood it—this case was not like the others. Too hard to crack; and too much to account for. Jaebeom was suddenly awash with bitterness. He saw it in Jinyoung’s eyes, and felt it, deep down, too.

He didn’t want to be the one to find the children’s bones. He didn’t want to be the one to bring their remains home.

“Let’s go back, Jinyoung,” he just said. Stuffed the shoes into his knapsack; ignored the weight of Jinyoung’s gaze boring holes into his back.

“The answers we need are in the village,” he continued, but more so to comfort himself. “I know just who to ask.”

➴

“You trust him?”

They were back at Youngjae’s house after the silent trek back. Standing outside the gate, blending into the dry, afternoon heat. Jaebeom needed to see Yugyeom again.

“I do trust him,” Jaebeom confirmed.

“Based on what?” Jinyoung probed hotly. “Just because you are the sa—”

“We are not the same.”

Jinyoung looked at him weirdly.

“As your partner,” he started, voice low, careful, “I think you should think one again. To be safe.”

“I _am_ being safe,” Jaebeom grumbled. “Yugyeom knows things.” He thought about his newfound ability, and for the first time, it didn’t fill him with disgust.

“He doesn’t even know what he is,” Jinyoung pointed out.

Jaebeom frowned. “That’s not a bad thing.”

Jinyoung huffed. “No, but you are being—”

“You have no problem consorting with your _contacts_ —”

“—reckless and I trust them because I _know_ them—”

“—and you never _tell_ me anything yet I follow you _and_ follow you—”

“—and I would _never_ do anything that could hurt you—”

“—so why can’t you just trust me _for once?!”_

Jinyoung stopped mid-sentence, face flushed and angry. A look of hurt flashed across his face. Then—it was quickly replaced by the same sturdy coldness that he always treated Jaebeom with.

“Fine.”

Jaebeom studied him, feeling sorry. He hadn’t meant to upset Jinyoung further today. He suddenly felt so, _so_ tired.

“How about you get to know him again?”

Jinyoung visibly balked. “Yugyeom?”

“I just… you’re right. I don’t have any reason to trust him over any stranger,” he confessed quietly. “But I’m trying to trust my gut. And I’m at my wits end.”

The shoes sat in his knapsack.

“If you still don’t trust him, we’ll find someone else.”

And Jinyoung looked everywhere but Jaebeom. His lips were parched from the heat; and his fingers unclenched, loose; defeat. He had doubts. They didn’t know anything about Yugyeom except that he was a halfling. _My parents were killed by a halfling._ Jaebeom wished he never knew.

“I want to talk to him,” Jinyoung agreed. “In private.”

➴

If Jaebeom’s own experience was anything to go by, he knew Jinyoung’s vetting process could be… tough. Never mind their fateful fist fight in the gaunde, Jinyoung had glared at Jaebeom for about half of their journey here and ignored him the other half. Once or twice, Jinyoung was kinder, more curious, less brash. And it made Jaebeom feel funny—like he was liked.

But it turned out Yugyeom mustn’t have been so bad after all apart from his, well, halfling-ness. Jaebeom watched curiously as Yugyeom stumbled back into the house from the garden where he was under Jinyoung’s private interrogation, eyes bright with mischief, laughing delightfully. A few steps behind, Jinyoung entered, glaring, again, but without any real heat.

“So… he’s clear?” Jaebeom prompted, uncertainly. Why was he stressing over Jinyoung murdering Yugyeom again? And explaining to Youngjae that his best friend suffered a mysterious death in the garden while he was out at the market selling fish…

“Yes,” Jinyoung answered haughtily, his previous agitation melting back into a condescending grace. Yugyeom giggled beside him, unfazed. A very seal-like sound. “Show him what we found.”

Jaebeom looked at them strangely, then shrugged. _Not jealous,_ he told himself, before he even fully registered his words. Then he nearly tripped over himself getting up to bring Yugyeom the shoes.

“Careful, there,” Jinyoung grabbed his arm. Jaebeom felt his face go warm.

And—was someone _snickering? How did Bambam get here so suddenly?_

He pointedly ignored the ghost next to him, who was looking at Yugyeom _very_ interestedly, and signalled the other halfling closer.

“Here,” he held them gently, once the three of them huddled closely on the floor. Jaebeom watched Jinyoung eye Yugyeom expectantly. “Have you… Have you seen anything like it?”

Yugyeom reached for them, child-like, intrigued. His thumb against the tattered straw, one second, two. Then—all of a sudden—he flinched and drew his hand back as if he got burned. A small gasp; a look of fright. He visibly shrunk into himself, scooting away from the shoes.

Jaebeom glanced at Jinyoung in alarm. From their understanding, Yugyeom was gifted with empathic abilities. What did he feel to make him so—scared?

“Yugyeom? What—what is it?”

When Yugyeom’s gaze finally tore away from the shoes, his voice shook.

“Where did you find them?”

Jinyoung spoke quickly. “The woods. This morning,” he said, purposefully vague and untelling.

“They’re… they’re hurt,” is all Yugyeom says. A complete one-eighty from the noisy cackling creature he was just five minutes ago. Beside him, Bambam looked at him sadly.

“Who’s hurt?” Jaebeom asked, even though he already knew. _The Order doesn’t believe in coincidences._ A sinking feeling in his gut. _It’s a little… unprecedented._ Jinyoung was looking a bit pale.

“Its owner.”

“How… so?”

Yugyeom stared at them. The large irises that were once unnerving were only sorrowful now.

“What exactly are you looking for?” he asked quietly. They hadn’t told him much about the case as per the rules of hunting. But it seemed like this was not whatever Yugyeom thought this was about.

Jaebeom swallowed. “It’s classified,” he apologised, “but… it’s important.” They were children. Grieving parents. Whole lives ahead of them ripped away. “We need all the help we can get.”

He felt Jinyoung’s gaze linger on him.

Then, Yugyeom took the shoes wholly into his hands.

“He’s frightened,” he explained, softly. _A boy._ “Panicking. And he’s in pain.” Yugyeom paused. “I think… I think it’s his tummy. I can’t tell for sure. He was too scared.”

Jaebeom cringed thinking about it. Who would hurt a child like that?

Suddenly, the door busted open. The smell of fish filled the room, and it felt like yesterday, but worse. Jaebeom instinctively drew the shoes back—but it was too late. Youngjae stood by the door, half-dragging buckets of fish, glancing at them weirdly. When his eyes landed on the shoes, they widened so much Jaebeom worried they would pop right out of his head.

“How the _hell_ did you get that?”

➴

More shoes.

This one, thrown into the sea. That one, set on fire outside a farm. If they were gone, then they would be forgotten. But if they were found, then… what?

Youngjae had come home to cook lunch for Yugyeom and himself—this was their routine. Jaebeom and Jinyoung dropping by without invitation was _not_ routine. Children’s shoes mysteriously appearing around the village was… definitely not normal.

“I saw the fishermen looking at it this morning,” Youngjae explained. “One got caught in someone’s net.”

They were seated around the dining table now, Youngjae having kindly prepared them a portion of lunch, too. The rice was wet, very soft. Jaebeom struggled with the chopsticks.

“And the other one?” Jinyoung asked. Unlike Jaebeom, he didn’t have much of an appetite to eat.

“I didn’t see them,” Youngjae shrugged, picking bones out of white meat, picking meat over to Yugyeom’s bowl. Bambam was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“I only heard about it,” he continued, but he wavered. “Apparently the farmers spotted a small fire outside right before dawn. They tried to look for the culprit but couldn’t catch anyone.”

Jaebeom frowned. Whoever did this didn’t want to be caught—but he wanted to be seen, too. They were sending a message.

“What happened to the shoes?” he asked.

Youngjae avoided looking at him. “Think the fishermen threw them away—just regular jipsin, you know, plus, they were wet and rotten by the time they fished them out.”

“And the other one? At the farm?” Jinyoung probed. “Were they destroyed in the fire?”

Youngjae stayed quiet. A small pile of bones started to gather in his bowl.

“Hyung?” Yugyeom frowned. If Jaebeom could sense Youngjae’s avoidance, Yugyeom must feel it blaring in his face.

“Maybe it’s best we don’t talk about it.”

“But _why?_ ” Yugyeom pressed. “Hunter Im and Hunter Park need to know…” The strangeness of the situation had caught up to the whole table. One could only pretend to believe in coincidences for so long.

“No, they don’t,” Youngjae snapped. “Just eat your food, Yugyeom.”

Yugyeom bit the inside of his cheek sulkily. From the corner of his eye, Jaebeom saw Jinyoung pat the boy’s leg in comfort.

“Youngjae-ssi,” Jinyoung tried again, voice gentler, now. “You know we can’t tell you much given our jobs… But there are people in danger.”

“These shoes have something to do with it,” Jaebeom added. “We’re sure.”

Youngjae finally looked up, pained.

“Our village has only known order and warmth for centuries,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I cannot say anything to risk this peace.”

 _An illegitimate child. A nobleman’s son._ Jaebeom knew that the above always crumbled down. Always.

“But… what if the peace was a hoax?” Jinyoung questioned softly. “The things you ignore don’t just go away.”

Jaebeom felt his throat tighten uncomfortably.

“The village _is_ threatened. And people could get hurt,” Jinyoung continued. “People are hurt already _._ We can only save what is left; and come to terms with what we’ve lost.”

_I am not pretending to be anything. I am human. I chose to be so._

“…You really think so?”

Youngjae was frightened. Hearsay was never looked on fondly in the village—especially the kind that they were hearing these days. For as long as he knew, they have been blessed with seas rich of fish and land fertile all-year round. And they have that because there is order. 

Order whereby authority is respected, and loose tongues are cut. Husbands stay faithful. Children are protected.

“I hunt monsters,” Jinyoung said quietly. “And I watch people who were once terrorised put their lives back together all the time.” He gave Youngjae a small, wobbly smile.

Youngjae took a deep breath. Coming clean was never easy.

“People have been saying—but it’s all rumours, and you know, it is probably fake—” his voice dropped to a whisper. “There was a child. Of nobility. But he was born out of wedlock, and they’d been keeping it hush. That’s not allowed here, you know that? They’d been hiding him all this time. But he’d gone missing. And if he is found and exposed—the whole family killed. Just like that.”

Jaebeom felt his stomach drop.

“And the shoes at the farm… those were taesahye. Only noblemen can afford those. It’s not like the jipsin you and I found. People are suspicious.”

“So…” Jaebeom frowned. “What do they think happened?”

“Some people say the family is being threatened. People took the boy away and their secret will soon be spread.” Jaebeom felt his blood run cold. To be uncovered like that—it was cruel.

“Others are saying the family killed the child themselves,” Youngjae continued, and Jaebeom wished he never asked. The food had long gone cold; the air around them icy.

“But what about the other shoes, then? Other… children?” Yugyeom asked.

Youngjae looked at him strangely, then shook his head. “I don’t know. No one really cares about those.”

Jinyoung’s lips then thinned into a scowl. _They will not be looking for paupers’ children. And we both know they’d happily let us take the fall for a messy closure to the hunt._ They needed to account for them all. Not one, not seventeen, but twenty-seven children. Orphan or noble. The only one string that tied them together was being forgotten.

“We need them all,” Jinyoung said, and his voice left no room for disagreement. “We need to find all the shoes they left behind.”

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions**
> 
> ☾ jipsin - traditional sandals made from woven straw  
> ☾ taesahye - traditional leather shoes for men


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [that_yellow_umbrella:](url)
> 
> im bad at this omg, thank you for reading and please wait for the next chapter!!^^

➶

“Then stay for the night.” Youngjae gathered his gear as he stood up from his seat. He sturdily walked towards the door. “ _Stay for the night_. I don’t know how many days you both have been looking around for whoever or whatever it is you need to find, but I’m sure you need strength for the next few days.”

“Yugyeom, make some rice for dinner.” He turned to Jaebeom and Jinyoung. “I’ll fish some more, so you have extra on your way. When you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll show you the route to the sea and the nearby farm. Maybe those places will help you decide on what to do next.”

Both of them weren’t able to answer right away as Youngjae closed the door immediately. They had nothing else to do, but wait and rest for whatever they would encounter on their way. The clock was ticking, but regardless of what was to come, Youngjae was right — at least they seemed to be on track.

No one was speaking inside the room. The aura was too strong, the wind was too loud and still. Too many words unspoken as they tried to communicate in the right way to test the waters. 

_Twenty-seven children. Twenty-seven children. Twenty-seven children._

The only sound they could hear was the water splashing from the pots and pans that Yugyeom was cleaning. He was clearly too engrossed in the duty Youngjae had assigned him. 

“Don’t worry about him, hyungs.” He smiled. “I know that whatever you’re supposed to do is a risk and very _dangerous_ one indeed, so we are here to provide any help. Even the littlest of it.”

“Thank you, Yugyeom. Thank you for helping us.” Jinyoung moved next to him and let his hands be soaked with water and rice. 

“You don’t need to help me, hyung.”

“I insist.” Yugyeom eyed Jaebeom curiously, just meters away from him, waiting to see his reaction. Jaebeom’s front was still facing the door.

“Besides, it will help ease my mind for a little while. I’m scared for the children, but we have to do this you know.”

Yugyeom nodded. Supposedly too young, but enough to realise the violence happening around the common world. “I’m sure you can save them, hyung.”

Jinyoung’s lips formed a thin line. _Other words unspoken — “I wish for that too.”_ But instead he nudged Yugyeom’s elbow and turned his lips into a soft smile. Just then Jaebeom walked towards them and looked at the rice Jinyoung was cleaning.

“You’re doing it the wrong way. You’re not even cleaning them properly. Don’t just let the water flow through them.” Jaebeom quickly pushed Jinyoung back and stood in front of the pot as he stirred the rice counterclockwise. Jinyoung laughed.

“Why do you think I don’t know how to clean rice properly? Don’t you think I only did that to make you do the work instead?”

The statement earned him an earful laugh from Yugyeom. He was so happy he started patting Jaebeom’s back, “Ah Hunter Im, I’m really the one who is supposed to do that. Why are you two even hovering here? You should both go outside and feel the wind before it gets dark. I do that to calm myself.”

“This is the least we can do, Yugyeom.”

“I know that and even so, go. I can do this by myself.”

The two stared at Yugyeom as if waiting for him to back down from the suggestion. 

Jinyoung sighed and started walking towards the door. “All right, but if I smell smoke from outside I’m telling Youngjae it’s all your fault.”

Yugyeom laughed again and motioned for them to go. 

➴

Only the sound of jipsins were heard during their walk. Their boots were properly placed outside of the door waiting to be cleaned. 

Jinyoung looked around as he walked, leaves were scattered, but the flowers were too beautiful to be ignored. The wind was calming - _Yugyeom was right_ , he reminded himself to thank Yugyeom before they left the next day. 

“I can hear you thinking from behind me.” Jaebeom freely stood beside him and eyed Jinyoung curiously, looking for the meaning of his pained expression.

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually scared of doing this and not just for whatever is happening with the children.”

Jinyoung stopped his tracks. “And what if I am?”

Jaebeom returned a smile “The great hunter, Park Jinyoung, is actually scared? Is this for real?”

“Are you seriously playing with me right now?” 

Jinyoung stopped on his track and closed his eyes which startled Jaebeom. He looked at him from head to toe, wondering what was wrong. 

He looked at his face and wondered how a man could have such long lashes and beautiful soft lips. _Beautiful? No. Surreal then? No._

“I agree. He’s beautiful.” Bambam popped behind Jaebeom with a wink and started circling around Jinyoung.

“You need to stop staring too much. You’re being too obvious, Jaebeom hyung,” he said. And then: “Okay, you need to stop ignoring me. I’m not going to flirt with your hunter.”

Jaebeom just gave Bambam an intense glare and returned to gaze at Jinyoung. He had been so distracted by the ghost that he didn’t notice Jinyoung staring at him. _Is this too close?_

“I’m scared.”

Jinyoung smiled softly and continued, “And I’m worried... but I’m with you ‘till the end, right? We’ll make it out alive? Even the children?”

The moment was too honest and Jinyoung spoke too quietly. As if wanting Jaebeom not to hear, but to feel his emotions. 

This wasn’t the Jinyoung from their first day; this wasn’t the Jinyoung who put up walls throughout this mission just to walk it out alive and do another next. He raised Jinyoung’s chin with his index finger.

“We’ll make it.” Jaebeom pushed himself towards Jinyoung with a step and enveloped his head with his right hand and put his left hand on his back, “We’ll make it. Even the children, Jinyoung. All of us.”

Jinyoung returned the embrace with a nod.

The walk back to the house was again _quiet,_ but enough for the two to share a smile and confirmation that they had each other’s back.

➴

“Shouldn’t hunters be awake at all times?” Youngjae smiled as he gathered his gear for the day. The four had walked at least thirty minutes from the house and all they could hear in the wee hours of the morning was a bird chirping and Jaebeom's constant yawning followed by Jinyoung’s snickering.

“No, the question is, who plays Gonu for god knows how long and whines loudly when you tell them you’re sleepy?” Jaebeom squinted and threw Yugyeom an intense glare that earned him a hiss.

“I told you we could just play Ssireum and the one who loses should sleep on the floor and I quote, _‘In your dreams.’”_

“That’s childish.”

“And Gonu isn’t?”

“Can you two please stop fighting and keep quiet so I can have some peace? It’s both your fault that you have not enough rest when you were clearly told to sleep.” Jinyoung started walking faster ahead of the two.

“But really, Youngjae-ssi, isn’t three in the morning too early to fish?” Jinyoung asked, coming hurriedly up alongside Youngjae.

“No, I think this is pretty normal. Besides, I’m not just here to fish. I’m here to show you all the routes around, so you can have an idea where to find the taesahye.”

Jinyoung nodded.

“Don’t worry we’re close. The other fishermen are still on their way, so you can have all the extra time you need to search for it. I might not know where exactly the other shoes are…”

The hunter shrugged his arm. “That will be for us to figure out. We’re thankful for the food and lodging… and even this. Youngjae-ssi, really, we’re thankful for it.”

Youngjae returned a smile. “You’re welcome. It’s not like we always have hunters looking around for monsters, ay?”

“I guess so.” 

➴

“I don’t think this is the exact place where they burned the shoe, but this is the only area where we can make fire.” Youngjae placed his gear on the sand to show the hunters different spots outside the farm. 

They stopped in front of a hut located in the middle, meters away from the farm, four yellow talismans were seen right above the closed door. No plants and rocks outside.

“That’s way too many.”

“Then you should already know why.”

Youngjae took the stairs to the hut and slowly opened the door, “We fishermen use this to rest while waiting for the others to fix their gear and clean the fishes. You can say this is our sanctuary.”

The hunters nodded as they walked into the hut. It was small, but perfect for people who were just here to rest. Cups and pans could be seen and piles of cloth unguarded. 

“Come here, we can use the door at the back as our way to the sea.”

The three of them gathered behind Youngjae, quietly taking a glance or two at their surroundings. 

_Something wasn’t right._ “Is it really this quiet?”

“Yes it is.”

As Jaebeom took one more step, Bambam immediately showed up in front of him. 

“Fuck! You can’t just do that, okay? You’re going to kill me from a heart attack.”

“Is it the ghost?” Jinyoung asked.

Jaebeom nodded and continued to follow the others. Clearly trying to ignore Bambam’s presence who had been circling around them — checking the surroundings.

“Yes, I’m right," said Bambam. " _I can hear something._ ”

He looked at the younger with one raised eyebrow up. “What do you hear?”

“I’m not sure, that’s what I’ve been trying to find out for hours. It’s been here for… I don’t know, maybe a day or two. I can definitely hear something.”

The four of them looked around -- they heard nothing but the calm morning wind.

“Is it alive? Breathing?”

Bambam didn’t answer, but continued to walk far away from them. Jaebeom didn't bother asking again.

“Maybe I can help, hyung. Give me the taesahye. We can figure something out.” Yugyeom got hold of the shoe Jinyoung had laced from his belt. 

He closed his eyes deeply to concentrate and slowly breathed. “There’s something.”

_Silence._

“Hungry. He’s hungry... very thirsty,” he explained, “I can feel liquid, but I don’t know where, _no_ , it might be blood or just tears, he’s in pain… Oh, _oh,_ I think they’re crying from hunger.”

Yugyeom immediately opened his eyes and threw the shoe away.

“What? Did you see something? Felt something?”

“There was… I think there were two of them. I’m sure one of them is a child, but I don’t think there can be two of them when there’s only one shoe?”

“What’s the other one?”

“Fur.” Yugyeom looked at Jaebeom, “I could feel the fur. It was smooth and it felt… strong.” He sighed, “I might need to go back to the hut and rest my mind. I’ll be sure to guard your fishing gear, hyung.” 

He turned to Youngjae.

“As you wish," Youngjae said. " Make sure you rest.”

Jinyoung stopped Yugyeom as he turned away. “Thank you for that, Yugyeom.”

Yugyeom nodded and returned his smile. “Good luck, hyung.”

➴

A strong wind passed by the three of them as they tried to walk towards the ocean. 

And then — _nothing._

The silence was too deafening for them to move forward and both hunters couldn’t chant a thing. Whatever or whoever the creature was too powerful for the three of them to handle. 

“Do not move.” Bambam appeared behind Jaebeom and quietly took a step forward.

“He told me not to move, so don’t move an inch," Jaebeom told Jinyoung. "It might be dangerous.”

“Why can't I see it, Jaebeom?” 

“Tell him it’s because it doesn't want to be seen," said Bambam. "It chases the three-disasters in life which are fire, thieves, and _ghosts._ It chose to fucking appear in front of me.”

Jaebeom nodded, “It seems to appear to him only. I don’t know what it is, but-” before he could continue, he remembered a book he read before about the four symbols of Chinese constellations. If this wasn’t what he thought it was, then they should probably prepare for the worst. “I have an idea of what it is.”

“Then tell us already!” Jinyoung drew his dagger and stood beside Youngjae to cover him, ready to attack.

“I think it’s a White Tiger. It chases three-disasters in life, right? Remember, the shoe was burned here, and Bambam -- the ghost could see him. We have one more left, which is the _thieves._ It might think we’re trying to steal something away from him.”

Jaebeom breathed quietly as he slowly touched the dagger inside his boots. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?”

He slowly placed the dagger on the sand in front of him, _slowly — and just as slowly_ removed the weapons belt he was wearing. “Just remove all your weapons and place it on the ground.”

“And if it attacks us?” Youngjae closed his eyes with fear. 

“No -- it’s a sign that we’re not trying to send them harm. If it’s a creature with a principle system, I’m sure it will know what to do next.”

The three of them slowly placed everything on the ground. Another wind passed by them and bright light appeared in the shape of a tiger. It was too huge, around twenty foot high and it was glowing right in front of them. The White Tiger took a step forward and moved something towards them — a child. 

Jinyoung immediately ran towards the child to check his breathing.

“He’s one of them, isn’t he?”

The White Tiger pressed his right paw to the child’s chest and immediately was gone. 

“It was guarding the child? Was he asking for help, hyung?”

Youngjae immediately took off his extra magoja and wrapped it around the child. He was probably around six or seven years old. He looked thinner and dehydrated. Scars were all over his body from his head to toe. And his feet -- burned, like the sole of the shoe. 

“Can you hear me?” Jinyoung asked.

The child nodded and whispered. “...Hurts.”

“What?” Jinyoung softly placed the child’s head on his lap. “What hurts?”

“My back… knots… many knots…”

Jinyoung gently touched the child’s back; it felt fine until he sensed an outline at the center. It earned a cry from the child.

“No…”

“Let’s take a look at your back so we can heal it, okay?”

He slowly turned the child’s body around to face Jaebeom and ask for assistance. Jinyoung lightly removed the cloth that was covering his back and found -- a norigae. 

“Isn’t this an accessory? Why would someone tattoo it on a child’s back?” He was fuming as he carefully placed his clothes back and picked the child up.

“Let’s get back to the hut. We’ll treat his wounds there and talk about what we should do next.” 

As they walked back to the hut, Jinyoung murmured soft words, hushing the child. He softly patted the child's head and back, quietly reassuring him that he’s finally safe. 

“What’s your name?”

“ _Sun.”_ The child whispered.

“What? Can you repeat again?”

“ _Sseunie._ Jackson, but you can call me Sseunie.” 

“All right, Sseunie. You’re safe with us.”

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions:**
> 
> ☾ jipsin - traditional sandals made from woven straw  
> ☾ gonu - jul-gonu, a two-player abstract strategy board game  
> ☾ ssireum - a korean folk wrestling style  
> ☾ taesahye - traditional leather shoes for men  
> ☾ magoja - a long jacket worn with a hanbok


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from[serendipitee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee)
> 
> Here's my chapter! This was a really fun challenge to write and it was truly an honor to be able to work with so many good writers I admire on this project! Thank you so much to Tania for your organizational wizardry and keeping us running over the year that we had. It was definitely a bright spot for me ❤️

➶

Jaebeom had, in his time, watched Jinyoung walk away from him in so many ways and variations that he thought he would have seen all there was to see. The slim tuck of his waist, his strong arms, his generous backside and athletic legs, the pink protrusions of his ears and heavy feet stomping away, or running, or prowling ahead of him on a deep forest path, releasing green spring branches he held back too early to whip his counterpart about the face. The instance, over-warm and singeing at the edges of his memory, of Jinyoung back-to-chest in his arms for even a moment as they fought, his heat and claws and piss and vinegar, his curves. Surely that was everything.

But then, this time, with a shivering, scared child tucked in his arms, Jinyoung opened his mouth and started singing.

The tenor barely carried over the sound of waves, crashing roiling and angry like the gods could sense the disturbance on the shore. The song was surely old by now, a lullaby from their youth — a luxury Jaebeom could only ever be distantly, wistfully aware of others having in that way, a warm embrace and someone to carry you home. 

His stomach turned as he and Youngjae exchanged weary glances. These moments might be among the last of Sseunie’s own childhood as he knows it.

Jaebeom’s glance turned again to Jinyoung, as ever. Maybe he understood this better than Jaebeom would expect. Jackson was slightly too old to sit comfortably on a hip, but Jinyoung had hoisted him up effortlessly, tucked his small head into his shoulder, and Jaebeom watched as the child trembled and squeezed a minuscule handful of his  po , the quick rise and fall of his fragile chest against the breadth of Jinyoung’s.

Jaebeom couldn’t help but think of Jinyoung’s whipping tongue around the idea of a  _ priority _ in the hunt, his unabashed disgust at the ranking of human lives, compared to the way he softened like a spring stream, defrosting at the young boy’s round, troubled face and almond eyes.

By the time Youngjae’s humble house appeared on the horizon, the child was fast asleep, Jinyoung’s soft melody pressed into his dirty hair.

Jaebeom sagged, spine beginning to unfurl at the sight of the hut. The idea of warm food and a blanket to drape around the child and his partner, coming in from the cold, was enough to help him breathe for the first time in days.

But this couldn’t end so simply. 

The fire in the hearth crackled cheerily, either unaware or blissfully unaffected by the chilly mood set in the room by their new guest. That, or Jaebeom was projecting his own feelings on the flame.

“Little one,” Mark lilted as they walked in, hint of a smile on his lips. Dressed in a shabby coat and trousers, he could almost pass for human, were it not for the rest of his appearance. His hair shimmered, lovely and minorly restless, like a breeze over a pond, and his teeth were sharp as Jaebeom’s dagger. He scratched a slender finger under Coco’s incorporeal chin. “Would you put some more tea on for our friends?”

Yugyeom hesitated, sensing the tension, but ducked toward the fire all the same. Jaebeom swallowed around the instinctual anger and upset at the youth for  _ inviting a fae inside _ , but one good look at his wide, worried eyes, clearly regretting it, made it melt into salt on the back of his tongue.

“Mark,” Jinyoung said, a deft hand on the situation even in an ambush.* He shifted Jackson closer to him. “How lovely for you to join us.”

“What are you doing here?” Jaebeom continued bluntly. He took a solid step to the side, a buffer between Youngjae and the fae, and Mark smirked.

“Shockingly, I haven’t come for some of your aggressive banter,” he said, “delightful as it may be. My liege sent me to check in.”

A spike of anxiety shot through Jaebeom, weighty underneath the feather lying on his chest. What benefit would the monarch have meddling in human affairs? Was Mark sent to —

“I had a vision.” For a moment, Jaebeom could see all of the eternal years behind Mark’s large, piercing eyes. He almost looked tired. “The other children are near. I could smell the salt and mildew; a vessel of some sort.” 

“What?” Youngjae breathed. “It can’t be. Wouldn’t we —”

Mark tutted, instantly back to haughty distance. “Your kind has a way of seeing not what they wouldn’t like to see.”

A rock dropped into Jaebeom’s stomach at the hurt sound Youngjae made behind him. “Leave him out of this. Whatever — whoever — did this, they were attempting to keep their cover.”

The child stirred against Jinyoung’s chest, freezing everyone in place for a moment; Jinyoung staring down at him, Youngjae attempting to move toward his simple kitchen, Yugyeom with teapot in his spotted grey hand and Mark and Jaebeom, glancing warily between each other and the rise of the child’s back. He sighed deeply in his sleep, the deeply troubled sound of having missed a nap for play, and settled back against Jinyoung’s broad shoulder. 

Everyone, save the fae, let out a breath of relief.

Mark’s eyes flit between the hunters. “We have to go look.”

“What interest do the fae have in orphans?”

“One good turn merits another,” Mark answered simply. Of course, anything to hold over their heads in the future. His tone lowered. “And as unbelievable as it may be to you, my kind holds no ill will toward children. They sense the magic too many of you try to ignore.” Jaebeom didn’t miss the way the fae’s gaze lingered on him.

“I’ll go with you,” Yugyeom piped, looking to make up for his earlier slip-up. “I know my way around the docks.”

Jaebeom needed only to look at the concerned crease in the smooth skin between Jinyoung’s eyebrows for a moment before deciding. “Stay here.”

“What?” 

“Stay with him,” Jaebeom insisted, tilting his chin toward the boy, ever so secure in Jinyoung’s arms despite how tired they must have been after holding him for so long. “Eat and get him fed, and we’ll see what we can find.” A grim shiver shot down his spine; the day had been far too long for Jaebeom to store any hope on reserve. 

“Jaebeom,” Jinyoung said, far too quiet and sticking in the curling corners of his downturned mouth. The uncharacteristic softness in his eyes stayed in his long look, washing through Jaebeom like a calm sea before a storm. But he didn’t fight, for maybe the first time since Jaebeom had known him, hoisting Jackson against his chest: “Hyung, be careful.”

Jaebeom’s voice caught in his throat. The string around his wrist pulsed. “I will.”

➴

The unusual pair trudged ahead of Jaebeom at his insistence — Yugyeom with an easy shrug, and Mark with a sardonic, serrated grin — toward the docks. The cacophony of shouts and commands at the seaside declined as the sun started her arc toward the horizon, leaving Jaebeom to crunch through the crusty grass and scan the area, dread growing in his stomach like mould.

Many of the men left there greeted and grunted at Yugyeom with familiarity while casting suspicious looks at the other two. Mark, looking down his nose at the lot of them while he swanned away toward the dock manager, appeared either not to notice or care. 

In the midst of questioning one of the men willing to chat with Yugyeom, Jaebeom felt himself sway. Head fuzzy, he took a step back, and — “Did you hear that?”

Yugyeom and the deckhand both gave him questioning looks that swam in his vision. 

Mark appeared out of thin air. “Where.” It wasn’t a question as much as a dispatch, a communique; Jaebeom could focus on nothing but the fae’s flashing quicksilver eyes and the way they seemed to read into his face. He heard it again, the sound of — 

His hand rose of its own volition, pulled into place without a conscious thought in Jaebeom’s mind, to point out a middling-to-small grubby fishing boat at the far side of the dock. “There.”

Mark turned on his heel and Jaebeom followed, drawn inexorably toward it by the low buzz across his skin. As they moved closer, his nose encountered a burst of floral scent; too sweet, like an overripe fruit, rotting. The boat bobbed atop the waves but swam in and out of view, a flickering seaside mirage. “Huh,” the deckhand muttered, genuine confusion in his voice, “I never even noticed that one there.”

“That was their intent,” Jaebeom grit out, understanding dawning as the pieces came together. The flowers, the ship, the weakening cloaking charm, the ease of Jackson’s escape. Drying sprigs of asphodel hung on the outside of the cabin door, the most sinister garland Jaebeom could imagine. 

Bambam was right. A man with flowers — these flowers, drying and falling apart and losing whatever ritualistic spell had been used to steal the sort of children no one would ever miss away. Only, they had chosen wrong along the way, or gotten too big for their britches, and kidnapped Jackson.  The dual guardians of his parentage and the protective magic over him surely complicated their plot , and confounded whatever amateur thaumaturge was covering their tracks so far.

Jaebeom felt sick as Yugyeom approached the boat. He clambered easily over the gunwale*, and Jaebeom held his breath as he fought with the cabin door, stuck with salt. He thumped against the hinge three times with the flat of his hand —  _ bang, bang, bang _ — and it creaked open.

A shivering shape appeared in the doorway, blinking into the waning light with scared, small eyes.

The sound of the waves muffled Yugyeom’s gentle call from this distance, but whatever he said, it seemed to work: slowly, uncertainly, a young girl emerged. An even smaller hand clung to the tatters of her skirt from behind. 

One by one, led by the thin girl, children piled out; tired and sniffling, with dirt in their hair and bare feet. None of them looked to be in their pubescence yet — old enough to walk on their own, but young enough not to get wise and start putting up a fight, Jaebeom noted, swallowing again around the rolling nausea in his throat.

Jaebeom stared, numbly rooted in place, until the deckhand started forward from behind him, leaning toward the boat to help hoist the kids onto the rickety dock. The girl in the front, visibly one of the eldest of the herd, stumbled a little when her feet landed on something solid, and Jaebeom’s hands shot out to catch her on instinct.

She shrunk away as if scalded, still terrified. Jaebeom snatched his hands back immediately, regret stinging under his skin. “It’s alright,” he managed, keeping his hands open and placating. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.” He could only vaguely hear the sound of Mark bickering sharply with someone in the background as he knelt down, digging a spare cloth out from his pack and offering it to her to wipe the snot from her nose.

She looked from his face back to the kerchief, and took it with a shaking hand. Her chin wobbled, and Jaebeom startled as tears started to fall. Not knowing whether to reach out and comfort her or not, he waffled in the middle, until — “Hey! You’re causing a scene! Get out of here!”

The dock manager loomed overhead, salt-encrusted beard and moustache twisted with fury. “You’re going to ruin my business! You hunters never know when to leave well enough alone!”

As quickly as it had been doused by the uncertainty of the day, Jaebeom’s habitual, dependable wellspring of anger rose up again in his soul like an oncoming volcanic eruption. “Excuse me?” 

At his full height, the manager was at least a head shorter than him, and much slighter in comparison; despite his bluster, Jaebeom wasn’t angling for a fight.

“You heard what I said. Get the hell out of here. Ain’t nobody care about some orphans enough for this kind of a mess.”

Scratch that. Maybe Jaebeom was angling for a fight. Or, he would be, if he had spared a second thought before winding back his left fist and smashing it across the man’s face.

➴

Jaebeom’s knuckles throbbed the entire walk back, but he managed a gentle hold on the eldest girl’s diminutive hand, grasping it like fine glass in his rough palm. 

She was less scared of him now somehow, after knocking a man unconscious. Blinking up at him with her dirt-streaked face she smiled, something that felt both out of place and relieving for Jaebeom to return, shakily. 

All twenty six missing children had disembarked safely. Maybe that was something to smile about, after all. “Thank you for helping us.” 

_ It’s my job, _ he didn’t say.  _ I had to. I was honour bound, I was ordered, I  _ — “You’re welcome. What is your name?”

“Yeji. What’s yours?”

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Mark; fully enthralled with a pair of twins, one in each arm, and a little boy chattering in his ear hung over his back, he breathed. “Jaebeom.” They walked together in silence for a few paces, avoiding rocks to protect her bare feet. “Can I ask about what happened to you?”

Yeji made an uncertain noise. “Is it… safe to talk?” 

A lance of pain shot through Jaebeom. His own suspicion, so deeply ingrained into him from childhood, pulsed in sympathy. “It’s safe. Whoever took you away, they can’t hurt you now.” 

She shifted her little shoulders, loosening up. “Okay. Um. I got a little lost in the woods playing. We always play at the creek, and when I got there everything was. Weird. There was a man….” She rubbed at her cheek, brow furrowing, excavating a memory. “I remember seeing him around town and he had a nice smile. He always smelled like flowers. So I went to say hi, and he gave me a flower, but it smelled weird and. And.” She sighed. “And I don’t really remember that much after that.”

“That’s okay.” They walked quietly for a while, Jaebeom sifting through what he knew of asphodel; it’s scant, mostly used in herbal remedies for small sicknesses. The imagery in the West he had distantly heard of, though, was certainly foreboding — a symbol of the underworld, of death.* 

“There is one thing,” Yeji finally piped up again. “I remember when we were walking by a lake. The two big men thought they heard an animal, and they told the flower man to look for it. But I just saw a fox in the bushes. And then I heard the flower man screaming. And he didn’t come back.” 

Jaebeom skidded to a halt. “You—you saw a fox?” Surely not….

Yeji gave him a weird look. “Yeah? It was kind of big though. Are we almost there?”

Jaebeom made a mental note not to tell Jinyoung anything about his — the — fox.

➴

Youngjae looked up from his squat outside of the house when Coco barked, in the middle of scaling a fish, and his jaw dropped. “Holy s—crap.” He looked back down at the fish, and again up to Jaebeom and the horde behind him, holding the hand-sized creature up. “Gonna need more than one of these.”

Jinyoung burst out the front door at the noise, and the relief in his features threatened to make Jaebeom’s knees crumble underneath him. He didn’t hold Jaebeom’s eye for long, clearly as overwhelmed at the flock as Youngjae, quickly ushering them inside.

The flurry of activity that followed distracted Jaebeom for the better part of an hour, getting the kids cleaned with a burlap passed around and a pail of water, digging through the garden for ripe-enough vegetables to make a gigantic pot of stew, figuring out a way to get them all tucked away inside the tiny house, practically filling it to the rafters. Yeji looked relieved to see Jackson, petting gently at his hair when he ran to her for an embrace. 

Jaebeom tried not to look too long every time Jinyoung passed his eye-line, bustling around to account for every need and every crying eye, but it was increasingly difficult as things settled. He wanted to debrief. He wanted to tell Jinyoung what he had learned. He wanted to breathe in the same space, in the comfort of his sardonic smile and shrewd eyes, and feel as if they had won.

As the night grew darker, Mark cornered him in the torchlit garden. “I appreciate your trust in me today.”

“It was necessary,” Jaebeom edged, throat tightening. Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either — they likely could have gone on without the tip and without Mark’s involvement, but it might have taken days or weeks longer to narrow down exactly where they needed to look. Gods know what could have happened to the children between now and then.

Mark hummed, sensing something in his clipped tone and grinning. “A suspicious lack of trickery?”

“You know your own reputation.” 

“I do,” Mark agreed. “And given this level of  _ misunderstanding _ between fae and humans, I would like to offer you a proposal.”

Jaebeom’s jaw tensed, hand closing on the butt of his sword. “I should have known.”

“You know not what I want to say,” Mark said amicably, tilting his head to the side at a jaunty, playful angle like a dog. Jaebeom had no idea what Jinyoung ever saw in him.

“Any proposal is a step too far with your people, Mark,” Jaebeom fumed. “You must know this.”

Mark’s beatific smile slid, freezing into something harsh on his face. “Surely you do not think so little of the blood that beats in your own veins.”

Jaebeom sputtered, words he had prepared to hurl curling up and dying on his tongue. “I —” 

“As they figured you all might suddenly come in the possession of such a large litter, the monarch suggested we take the youths under our wing. You know as well as I that they aren’t missed; they won’t be welcomed back to wherever they were so easily taken from.” The last remark was heavy with disgust, but Jaebeom could hardly focus on it over the throbbing in his temples.

“No,” Jaebeom laid heavy. “No, that’s not going to happen. You’re not taking them.”

“They could spend peaceful lives with the fae,” Mark said back, eyes urgent. “Rather than — what, become hunting dogs like yourself and Jinyoung did at the academy?”

“The academy doesn’t impress servitude upon its students,” Jaebeom fought back, throat tingling tightly.

“Of course not,” Mark drawled. “It’s just strongly suggested.” 

He stepped closer, and Jaebeom tightened his hold on his sword. Mark’s eyes drew over the string around his neck with the weight of a touch. “I concede. Take them.” 

It was too easy. His breath across Jaebeom’s face smelled sweet and tart, like an apple. “When they are safe… when you feel it pulling at you… come to us.”

“Is that an order?” Jaebeom grumbled, annoyed at how Mark’s smile reappeared. 

“A reminder,” he said, startling Jaebeom by placing a finger right atop of where his monarch’s feather lay against Jaebeom’s skin, underneath his tunic and po. “Good luck, halfling.”

He backed off, irises flashing in the darkness like an animal, and turned away, retreating into the darkness. Leaving Jaebeom and Jinyoung to wrangle twenty seven children across the countryside to the academy. “Asshole.”

“What have you done?”

The weight of the day hung in Jinyoung’s gaze, undersides of his eyes swollen from little rest. But being able to see him — take in the view of him for the first time all day without a screaming child, or trickster, or dire situation to distract him — took the edge off of his accusatory tone, melting in Jaebeom’s ear. “Jinyoung.”

As they stood together in the low light, Jaebeom’s eyes cleared, noticing the raw, unpleasant twist to Jinyoung’s full lips, the deep furrow of his brows, the angry, bitten red of his cheeks, the sharpness in his eyes. “Your affections seem to have been rebuffed. And now we are down an extra pair of hands.”

“Affections?” Jaebeom balked. “Jinyoung, he —”

“Mark likes to flirt,” Jinyoung continued, almost as if he didn’t hear him, “but he rarely ever means it. I can’t believe you shooed him off when we’re in such dire need.”

“ _ Shooed _ him? He left—”

“—without sparing a single second thought to our predicament—”

“—you would listen to me for even a moment to understand—”

“—the hypocrisy you live by—”

“—if I hadn’t who knows what he could’ve—”

“Enough,” Jinyoung hissed, eyes shining in a trick of the firelight. “I said you could have him, I just didn’t think you would take the chance at the most  _ inopportune _ moment.”

Jaebeom’s head swam with confusion, anger, and an unbecoming, undeserved sense of guilt. “I didn’t want that. I don’t want that. That wasn’t what was happening, and if you’d let me finish—”

His stomach plunged, horrified, as a tear slipped down Jinyoung’s cheek, watching him push it harshly away and yearning, yearning, yearning all the way down to his toes. “You have no idea of yourself. I swore I would never again feel as unseen and unnoticed as I was when I was a puppy at your heels in the academy, but fate has different plans in store for me.”

“What?” Jaebeom breathed, swaying close. At the academy, Jaebeom had only ever been a creature of solitude, sure of his displacement and illfit in the world, angry and angsty and alone save for the handful of kind masters. The few friends he made never seemed genuine at the time; he, too wrapped up in his own stigma, never realised their worth to him until after the fact. It seemed Jinyoung wasn’t exempt from that, only he... he’s saying — “What do you mean?”

Jinyoung looked beautiful even in the ugliness of tears, still so dangerous and full of fury in his exhaustion. “I will not embarrass myself further for you.” He turned on his heel.

Jaebeom’s hand reached out of its own power. “Jinyoung,” he said, his name soft on his tongue, in his throat. “Jinyoung, please.”

Jinyoung curled close, closer than they might have ever been, save their fateful scuffle. He looked caught, wounded like a deer with its leg in a trap. But the coals always lit in the depths of his eyes seethed. “Unhand me or you’re going to regret it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Jaebeom said, heart rioting in his ribs.

Jinyoung, rising to the challenge as they always do for one another, reached up and gripped his chin in an iron hand. “You will,” he fumed, and smashed them together by the mouth.

Jaebeom tasted copper before all else, one of their lips bursting at the impact. Jinyoung’s grip on his face didn’t loosen a single bit, but he wasn’t taking any steps with the other hand to stop Jaebeom from escaping, leaving him an out. 

Nose pressed in against Jinyoung’s, tasting the salt of his tears and his soft, plush lips for the first time — there was no way Jaebeom would take one. He fisted his hands in Jinyoung’s sleeves, pulling him closer, hungry for more.

Only then did Jinyoung’s hand loosen, mouth opening on a humid, jagged inhale. Jaebeom arched into it like a man starved, licking inside, tasting his blood again and sweeping his tongue and lips tenderly over the cut on his bottom lip. Jinyoung shivered, moaning sweetly into Jaebeom’s own open, waiting mouth, and Jaebeom’s whole body thrummed with pulsing heat.

And then, a disembodied voice: “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

➵

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **definitions & notes**
> 
> ☾ Calling a fae by their name is a way to exert power over them  
> ☾ Gunwale: the flat surface on the top of a boat’s hull/side  
> ☾ In Greek mythology, asphodel covers the field in the Underworld where spirits wait to be judged, sort of like purgatory


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from [kimwonpil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimwonpil/pseuds/kimwonpil)
> 
> hi everyone, this is kimwonpil! we've finally reached the last chapter and i had the honour/slightly daunting task of writing it. i really loved being a part of this project with so many amazing writers and getting to tie up everything, i hope you all enjoy ^-^

➶

By the time Jaebeom had recovered from Bambam’s sudden intrusion, Jinyoung was well and truly confused. Both of the Hunters had been sent crashing to the floor from Jaebeom’s surprise alone, their position eerily similar to their predicament in the guande. But neither of them were thinking about that, no, not at all.

“Bambam, you can’t just show up unannounced like that.” Jaebeom hissed, watching as Jinyoung’s shoulders sagged in relief. The pair managed to haul themselves back up onto their feet as Bambam continued cackling away at their misfortune. Nothing had changed with the ghost it seemed.

“But your faces were so funny! You looked like you peed your pants…” Bambam was near wheezing by this point, words tethering off into nothing as he clutched at his stomach. The ghost was hovering in the air a few feet away from Jaebeom and Jinyoung, had he been any closer, Jaebeom would have tried to wring his neck. In a friendly manner, of course.

“I did not look like that.” Jaebeom said, grumbling away to himself as he glared at Bambam, whose laughter still hadn’t subsided. He took a glance over to Jinyoung to find him trying to flatten down his hair again, brows furrowed slightly in concentration. If Jaebeom hadn’t been dealing with a childish ghost, he would have offered to help, but as it stood, Bambam was his unfortunate priority.

“You didn’t, but your boyfriend did.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh yes he is.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Oh, but he is,” Bambam sang and moved even closer to Jaebeom so that he was mere inches from the hunter’s face, sticking his tongue out in an immature fashion. Jaebeom could only scoff.

“I have absolutely no idea what’s going on,” Jinyoung began and both Jaebeom and Bambam turned to look at him; had Jinyoung been able to see the ghost, he probably would have found their similar curious puppy-like expressions rather endearing, “But I’m going to bed.”

Jinyoung gave no room for argument before he was wandering out of the kitchen and into the little back room that Youngjae had offered for him and Jaebeom to stay in, tucked away amongst the herbs and gardening equipment.

“Now you made him leave…” Jaebeom said with a whine, Bambam snickering before he disappeared himself. How typical.

Jaebeom was left alone, stood in the kitchen as the last candle started to wane and flicker. Night had come in far too fast today, but Jaebeom knew he needed the rest and quickly scuttled off to the back room as well, feeling around in the darkness for his blankets. Instead, his hand came into contact with another and Jaebeom gasped as a warm hand he’d come to know very well entangled with his.

As if he had become some sort of lovesick boy all over again, every little touch ignited something inside of him that made him feel several shades of warm and fuzzy. If he tried hard enough, he could hear Nickhun laughing at him and his weakening heart. But Jaebeom didn’t truly mind, not anymore.

“Goodnight Jaebeom, we’ll discuss a plan in the morning.”

Jinyoung’s words drifted away as Jaebeom settled beneath the thin blankets, heart pounding in his chest for a moment until he closed his eyes and relaxed.

There was still much to do come morning, and Jaebeom would need all the rest he could get.

➴

It was the flickers of sunlight which awoke Jaebeom early the next day, dancing across his vision and causing him to grunt in protest as he shoved his face into the woven bag he’d been using as a pillow. Jaebeom was sure that it was far too early to be awake, but he could hear the shifting of feet, the humming of a tune, somewhere beyond the confines of the back room he was holed up in.

“Right, let’s go…” Jaebeom whispered through his teeth, pushing himself up and wincing as his back cracked. God, he hated the ‘old man’ jokes that Jinyoung would grumble under his breath, but he couldn’t deny how true they were after an uncomfortable night’s sleep.

The house was otherwise silent, as Jaebeom slipped on his shoes and wandered out into the kitchen, the only evidence of life being the remnants of a crackling fire and the garden door slightly cracked open, letting in a nippy morning breeze. That was when Jaebeom heard the humming once more, Youngjae’s voice clear as day as he stepped into the garden, feet sinking into the dewy earth and face being warmed by the sunshine.

“Oh, Jaebeom. I didn’t expect you to be awake just yet.”

“I didn’t expect it either.” Jaebeom chuckled, taking a seat on the other side of the bench Youngjae was perched on, small tea set between him and a few cups stacked precariously on the tray.

There was no need for words of any kind as Youngjae prepared the tea, only his quiet humming of a folk song Jaebeom scarcely recognised, the music old and tied to the earth only just by strings of memory and tradition.

Silence persisted even when the tea had been made and Jaebeom took his first sip, inhaling the sweet aroma and letting the taste settle on his tongue. Such a sensation as this felt almost foreign, the ability to savour food and drink - rather than shovel it between his lips in haste - was something Jaebeom experienced rarely. Youngjae could tell, if the small quirk of his lips was anything to go by.

Jaebeom was pretty sure he could have sat there forever, drank cup after cup of tea until the blood in his veins was replaced by it instead. But there were pressing issues, desperate matters, that clung to his subconscious and clawed away at his mind, blackening every thought until all he could think about was: what and why and who?

“I’m scared.” Jaebeom blurted out and his heart pounded loudly against his ear drums until even the sound of the morning birds faded to nothing. The binding on his wrist simmered with energy; the material taut and pulled thin. It hurt.

“Of what?” Youngjae’s reply was curt and Jaebeom was almost prepared to retract his statement, tuck it away and pretend he had never said anything at all. Instead he found himself replying, whether it was out of necessity or out of a want to just  _ talk about it _ , Jaebeom wasn’t too sure.

“I’m not really sure… The unknown, I guess. The mission is practically over, we just have all of these questions piling up left and right and I don’t even know how to answer them. What do we do with Jackson? With the kids? Who even took them in the first place?” Jaebeom put his head in his hands, groaning and rubbing the last of the sleep away from his eyes. There was no way he was getting any more rest until nightfall now. His mind was too full of what-ifs.

“And— Well, what if I can never figure it out? Me and Jinyoung, we need to complete this mission, but what if it can’t be done?” Jaebeom said, words muffled from behind his hands but he was sure that, in their close proximity, Youngjae could hear him just fine.

Youngjae didn’t reply for a moment, and Jaebeom worried that he had been too much, had rambled for too long. He barely even knew the man, and yet, here he was spilling his trials and tribulations to him over tea.

“Jaebeom, I don’t particularly understand your situation very well. I don’t understand your world either, or Jinyoung’s, or Yugyeom’s, or that man from the Fae you had wander into my house yesterday. But, what I do understand is that no matter what, you’re going to do what is right. The answers might come now, or later today, or next week even, but you’ll do what is right because I’ve seen you do that countless times in the days we’ve known each other. You’re a very strong person, Jaebeom.”

Youngjae’s smile in the morning light could have easily outshined the sun, making Jaebeom feel warm all over as he nodded his head. Besides from whatever he had going with Jinyoung, and his associations with Nickhun and the rest of the Order, maybe he could name whatever this was with Youngjae as the blossoming of a friendship? It seemed to be rather like that; Jaebeom was glad that he’d run into Coco that day in the village, for now he had someone else he could trust and lean on.

“—Mister Jaebeom!” A kid squealed, breaking the comforting silence.

“And that’s my cue to go.” Jaebeom chuckled. In his moment of reverie and brief respite with Youngjae, he had completely shut off the sounds of the children rousing, as well as Jinyoung and Yugyeom’s tired groans as they tried to wrangle them away from the garden and back into the house.

“I’ll come with you, someone needs to make them breakfast.” Youngjae said, ushering Jaebeom towards the door where the hearty sound of giggles and several dozen children playing away to their hearts content awaited him.

➴

After talking with Youngjae in the early morning, Jaebeom’s day passed with an air of familiarity. The children were like a ragtag bunch of students from the hunter’s academy, loud and boisterous and playful. Jaebeom was rather taken to them, as was Jinyoung - though he did try to deny it time and time again. As the sun was starting to lower, closer to nightfall than noon, Jaebeom found himself trying to teach Yeji - the eldest of the children - how to play Gomoku against Jinyoung, who wasn’t letting the child have a fighting chance in the game whatsoever.

“Why do you keep winning?” Yeji asked with a huff after her third defeat, getting right up into Jinyoung’s face with a scowl that made her resemble an angry puppy. Jaebeom quietly laughed, trying to hide his smile behind a well placed hand.

“Because you’re just trying to make a pretty pattern, you’re not using your head to win.” Jinyoung retorted, folding his arms across his chest with a smirk. So much for going easy on the kids, like he’d promised Jaebeom earlier.

“That’s because I’ve never played before, you’re just being mean.”

“You’re not going to get better at the game if I’m nice though, are you?” Jinyoung said with a slight chuckle, Yeji placing her first tile back on the board and beginning the game again in near silence, save for the sounds of each stone tapping against the wooden board.

Eventually, Jaebeom decided to speak up. It was now or never, he supposed.

“Yeji,” He began, voice quiet as the girl set down her next stone, eyes flicking up to catch Jaebeom’s now serious gaze, “Would you like to go back to the orphanage or would you—”

“You’re going to take me back, aren’t you? You  _ can’t _ take me back, I won’t.”

“Yeji, wait, I won’t take you back if you don’t want me to.”

“Good. It’s scary there.”

Jinyoung didn’t put down his piece, holding the white tile in his hand as he watched the conversation pan out, wanting to see where Jaebeom was going with all of this. It felt as if this was the precipice, a ledge before everything either came crashing down disastrously or slotted neatly into place.

“What was so scary about it, Yeji?” Jaebeom spoke as if he was talking to a young animal, like a small kitten, Yeji’s defensive stance started to weaken around the edges.

“The men… The men that took me away, I’m scared they’ll come back. They were always talking about - how they would hurt me or the others if we ran away, or-or even if we only tried to.”

“Did they talk about anything else?”

“There was one thing,” Yeji whispered, watching as Jinyoung put his stone down. She placed hers directly across from it. She’d gotten a line, she’d won the game. “They always talked about their boss and the reward they would get for putting up with us. Every time they stole another kid, they just kept talking about money.” 

Jaebeom’s intake of breath was quiet enough, but to his own ears it was deafening. He loomed ever closer to that ledge, peering over the side into the abyss below.

“That means whoever they were working for must’ve been really rich, powerful even.” Jinyoung provided. Jaebeom thought the same. A rich man, they were dealing with the upper class, possibly nobility. That only made all of this far more complicated.

“Yes, it could be—”

A knock at the door.

Jaebeom turned slowly as the already quiet house shifted to an orchestrated silence, and instinctively shuffled to his side to protect Yeji, hand poised above his dagger that he’d placed beside him on the ground. For a moment, no one moved, and then Youngjae was emerging from the garden, quick footsteps guiding him towards the door. Of course the human would see no reason not to answer the door, but then again, even Jinyoung had hesitated.

Youngjae pulled the door open, a man stepping in without an introduction. He didn’t need one however, Jaebeom could recognise the uniform anywhere and inclined his head without a second thought.

“I bring a message from the King and his Royal Court,” the man said. “Please listen.”

By now, Yeji was completely hidden behind Jaebeom’s back, gripping tightly onto his shirt and Jaebeom could feel her trembling as she sat there. Something wasn’t right. Yugyeom had since joined Youngjae and Jinyoung had taken to straightening his posture. But something was about to go wrong, Jaebeom could feel it. Could  _ taste  _ it in the way that bile was rising and rising in his throat, coating his tongue and making him stare at the soldier with distaste.

“Dear my subjects: Hunter Im and Hunter Park,

“News of your triumph has travelled fast and I received word that you have found all the missing children with which you were hired to seek out. Although I was not directly involved in the case, I wish to congratulate you on your successes, your fellow citizens and I are in your debt. On account of such a noble accomplishment, I, your King, wish to see you in person, so that I may commend you myself for your valiant efforts. I suspect that it may take some days for you to reach the capital once again, but I expect you to be there on the rise of the next full moon. You will be welcomed into the Royal Palace with open arms, and I will present you with a reward far greater than whatever your client may have offered you.

“Signed: his Royal Highness, the King.”

The soldier bowed his head, leaving the scroll upon the table. After he left, Jaebeom swore he was going to be sick, every muscle in his body tense and moving through the air as if it had turned to molasses, thick and dense and suffocating his limbs. He needed to see the scroll, and he scrambled over to the discarded missive.

“What…,” Jinyoung said. “What was that all about? The full moon? That’s in four days, we might not make it with all of the children in tow. And how could the King possibly have heard of all this? He wasn’t supposed to know.” 

Jinyoung spoke, but his voice barely reached Jaebeom’s ears as he scanned over the scroll, eyes stinging as he read. The lines were stiff, angry,  _ desperate.  _ They were part of the script of a madman, a monologue of lies and deceit so rich that Jaebeom could barely breathe as he stood there. The king had lied to them, was still lying to them. Jaebeom wanted to destroy him.

“—Beom, Jaebeom…”

“Huh?”

“It’s Yeji.” Jinyoung sounded worried now and Jaebeom lurched across the room to the young girl, whose face was streaked with tears and sheet white, as if she had seen a ghost.  _ Had she? _ Jaebeom asked himself and peered around for Bambam, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

Yeji mumbled something unintelligible, Youngjae and Yugyeom having crowded around her too, the four men on tenterhooks as they waited.

“It was him.”

“Who was he Yeji?”

“That was one of the men that took us all away, he had the same uniform.”

_ Oh. _

Jaebeom fell off the very precipice he had been scared of just that morning, he landed swiftly and with ease.

The last piece of the very large, expansive and downright menacing puzzle, finally clicked into place.

“We set off for the capital at first light, all of the children are coming with us.”

➴

“I thought I told you two not to come in here again, I don’t need to replace any more furniture if you decide to squabble and break something.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Master Rain, our differences have been settled and we have a slight… predicament.” Jaebeom breathed out, watching as Rain turned around to finally regard him and Jinyoung, noticing the rabble of children waiting just outside of the guande with a sigh.

“I suppose you better bring them in then, but don’t get too comfortable, I’m under the impression that your stay won’t be very long.” Rain mused and pulled up a chair, gesturing for the two weary hunters to join him.

The trip to the gaunde had taken four days, Jaebeom had hoped for three at the most, but luck had not been on his side. A rainstorm had swept over the country and the valleys and mountains had grown slick and dangerous. Traversing across there alone was already a treacherous feat, but with over two dozen children circling around his ankles the whole time, Jaebeom was sure his sanity had well and truly slipped away.

Youngjae and Yugyeom had offered to accompany them, if only to help out, but Jaebeom knew he couldn’t afford to bring anyone else into the madness that would surely unfold. The King’s Palace was only a few miles away now, Jaebeom had been overcome with a creeping sense of malaise since he’d seen the city walls, sitting in the guande did little to change his mood.

“We’ve all heard of your case here,” Rain began as Junho wandered over with drinks for them all, only to catch sight of the children and be whisked away seconds later, cooing over the tiny ones and squishing their round cheeks. “Master Lee and I have been waiting for your arrival. It seems that the people here in the capital are more… amenable to us now, they’ve been so brainwashed by the aristocracy that the second the King approved of you, they became more accepting of the Order overnight.”

“It’s all just a farce though, isn’t it.” Jaebeom stated rather than asked. The scroll the King had sent them was enough proof as any that this wasn’t a pure hearted gesture. “The King has never been kind to us, why start now?”

“I couldn’t answer that for certain, Jaebeom, but your case has definitely piqued his interest.”

“What do you suggest we do now, Master Rain?” Jinyoung said, wringing his hands together nervously beneath the table. Jaebeom had seen how Jinyoung had become all too quiet and withdrawn as the days had rolled on by, sticking to himself and only responding to the children with simple replies. He barely talked to Jaebeom at all.

“Isn’t that your decision, Jinyoung? You and Jaebeom are talented enough to make your own plans, I need not intervene in a case that is not my own.” Rain sipped on his cup of tea, rising from his seat to go and make sure Junho wasn’t piled on by too many children. They did need the other master alive and not buried into an early grave due to asphyxiation by an infant.

Jaebeom managed to slip his hand into Jinyoung’s, squeezing his palm just to make sure that the other man knew he was there. Despite the giggles and playful nature of all of the children, nothing would seem to placate the hunters at all. As if on cue, one such reason for the restlessness wandered away from the crowd and into Jinyoung’s lap, wriggling upwards until he was seated and then rested himself against Jinyoung.

“Hi there, Sseunnie, are you doing alright?” Jinyoung asked, voice as gentle as a spring breeze, not yet letting go of Jaebeom, using his free hand to card through Jackson’s hair as he watched the young boy relax.

“I’m okay.” Was all Jackson said, clearly about to drift off to sleep.Jaebeom resisted the urge to coo over him much in the same way that Junho had done earlier, he was trying to be mature and level-headed - for everyone’s sake.

“We’re going to have to take him with us, aren’t we? He’s not going to be safe here.” Jinyoung said gravely, looking across at the other group of orphans and then to Jackson who had fallen asleep in his lap, curled up and looking almost angelic. Jinyoung may not have spoken much to anyone else on the way to the gaunde, but his connection with Jackson and the child’s trust in him was absolute.

“No, he won’t be.” Jaebeom shook his head.

“Not to interrupt but,” Junho suddenly spoke up, three children hanging off his limbs in various states of hilarity as he all but hobbled towards them, “The Crown Prince will be attending your… Ceremony? Whatever it is, he’ll be there. I was given word of his arrival through one of his aides, you should definitely take Jackson with you.” Junho finished with a smile before returning to messing around with the kids. Jaebeom was sure, had Junho not been so devoted to the Order for so long, that he would have made a great father.

“Well then I guess it’s settled, we take Jackson with us now and we finish this.”

“You still haven’t told me what you’re going to do Jaebeom.” Jinyoung’s tone was one of exasperation, face falling as he tried to figure out what Jaebeom planned to do. But Jaebeom couldn’t say, he was barely sure of his own suspicions himself, having Jinyoung privy to the swirling thoughts in his head would probably be disastrous.

“Just trust me, please.”

“Okay, I trust you. But if you fuck it all up I won’t hesitate to throw you to the dogs, or maybe a water wight?” Jinyoung said with a snort, rising to his feet and going to open the door.

“Believe me, the last thing I want is to fuck it up.”

“Well then lead the way, Hunter Im.”

➴

The grounds of the Royal Palace were vast and sprawling, gardens stretching around the perimeter for what felt like miles. Trees and vines crawled over every inch and the wildflower meadows made Jaebeom want to cough up a lung. It was all too much, too extravagant and lavish and bright. _ Fake _ . Like an illusion about to crumble.

Jinyoung was holding on to Jackson as tightly as he could, the boy in his arms starting to struggle as he too recognised where they were. Jaebeom felt cruel, leading the child into the heart of such an evil place, but it had to be done. They had to finish this case and seal it shut for good.

There were guards everywhere, all in the same uniform that Yeji had pointed out as those of the men that had taken the children away. It made Jaebeom sick to his stomach, to know that the very people who had sworn to protect them were hurting the innocent. But still, there was little he could do in the moment except approach the Palace with caution, steps small and quiet and hesitant. Jinyoung’s feet moved in time with his own.

“Appa…?” Came a meek whisper from Jackson, the Palace now in full, spectacular view as a hoard of servants, guards and noblemen alike mingled in a tight crowd. They seemed to be waiting to see the King too, gathered together rather unceremoniously for the esteemed guests that they were. But Jaebeom understood, many of those standing there had been on the side of the Crown Prince, the side of justice and hunters and the Order, the same could not be said for his majesty.

Jinyoung’s head raised quickly, flicking up from his shoes to the sight of the Crown Prince, a brisk pace being set by the man who had fallen away from the group to come and greet the Hunters.

“Hunter Im, Hunter Park, I cannot thank you enough.” The Crown Prince said, not a hint of deceit in his tone - Jaebeom quickly noted - and he went to take Jackson from Jinyoung’s arms. But Jackson held back from reaching for his father, instead cuddling even closer to Jinyoung, like he was trying to hide himself between the hunter’s garments.

Underneath Jaebeom’s sleeve, the bind practically sizzled with magical power on his wrist.

And then Jackson was picked up by his father, despite the boy’s tight grip on Jinyoung.

The bracelet snapped and all but dissolved into nothing.

“Is it finished…?” Jinyoung whispered under his breath, his own bind having disappeared too.

“Not yet.” Jaebeom shook his head, watching as Jackson was taken back to the crowd.  _ Back amongst the people who had tried to have him killed, _ Jaebeom’s brain provided him with the solemn thought.

A call for everyone to enter the palace came not a moment later, a grand door swinging open as guards flanked their path on both sides.

“Here goes nothing.” Jinyoung whispered, taking Jaebeom’s hand for a barely a moment, like he had done so many nights ago at Youngjae’s house. Jaebeom only just felt the squeeze to his palm before Jinyoung moved away again. But the gesture was familiar and comforting. It spoke a thousand odes. It told Jaebeom that Jinyoung trusted him.

The walk towards the centre of the palace felt like it lasted an eternity, a sort of pilgrimage to one's demise, Jaebeom could hear Jackson whining and sniffling a few paces ahead, but he couldn’t do anything to help soothe the poor boy. This was no place for a child, the armed guards and the piercing gazes were enough to tell him that.

Nothing prepared Jaebeom for the King’s court.

Surrounded by four, high stone walls and soldiers stood all around him, Jaebeom felt small. He felt scared. A shiver crept slowly up his spine, peering right into the eyes of the King who had parted the crowd to look upon the pair of Hunters - or peasantry, Jaebeom supposed - that’s all they would ever truly be to a man with such power. Both Jaebeom and Jinyoung bowed and lowered themselves down to their knees, Jaebeom couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the act that was all for nothing but formalities. The King deserved none of his respect.

“Ah! Hunter Im Jaebeom and Hunter Park Jinyoung, welcome, welcome!” The King’s voice boomed, tone jubilant and dramatic. “Honestly, I thought for a while that we would not be graced with your presence, but I see that you had the right idea to adhere to my invitation.”

“Well, it would be rather foolish of us to ignore it, your majesty.” Jaebeom chuckled, trying to mirror the faux-happiness that lit up the face of the King, putting on an act for all those around him to see. But he could tell, with only a mere look in the King’s direction, that he saw right through it.

“Yes, yes, it would Hunter Im. But you are here now, so we can celebrate your bravery and grand achievement. I understand that you rescued twenty-seven children, is that correct?”

“Yes, your majesty, they’re all in good health now and under our care for the time being.” Jinyoung said, taking over Jaebeom’s role of speaker for now. Jaebeom supposed that it was rather a good idea, his own jaw clenching as he bit back the desire to throw a dagger at the man in front of them. But that couldn’t happen, not just yet anyway.

“Ah, I see! Well, all of us here are very pleased that you managed to rescue them all, our kingdom prides itself on the safety of its citizens and we are now in the debt of our  _ valued _ hunters.”

Jaebeom couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of his throat, manic cackles spilling from his lips as he clutched at his chest. That was the last straw, he couldn’t listen to such terrible, bordering on frightfully hilarious, lies any longer.

“Hunter Im, whatever are you doing?” The King asked, tone sharp all of a sudden, his smile completely gone.

“What does it look like, you bastard?” Jaebeom giggled and he swore he could feel Jinyoung’s eyes boring into his skull from beside him. But his laughter wouldn’t stop and Jaebeom rose to his feet, clutching at his stomach as he faced the King. “You’re lying, admit it. Admit to your subjects that all of that was nothing but a myth, and maybe I will let you go with your life.”

No one around Jaebeom spoke, the only sound being his own wheezing breath as the King waved his hand and all the archers drew their bows to aim at the Hunter.

“You don’t scare me, little Hunter, you’re trapped. Move one more step and you’ll have a dozen arrows in your chest, move another and I’ll have a dozen more through your head.”

“Well, I’m not afraid of you either. Shoot me, and you’ll just be admitting to all those around you that I am right. I’m sure you wouldn’t want that information getting past the palace walls.”

The King paused at that, as did the archers who had drawn back their bows, lowering their weapons as the King motioned his hand back down.

“Fine, you may speak. If only because I’m rather amused as to what tales you have spun in that head of yours, Im Jaebeom.” The King chuckled devilishly and sat back down on his throne. A picture of pure, absolute power.

“Jaebeom,” Jinyoung whispered, still kneeling on the floor with his head bowed towards his feet, “Don’t do this, I won’t forgive you if you get us killed.”

“I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

There was no reply from Jinyoung for a moment, time stretching out as the all encompassing silence curled around Jaebeom’s limbs. Jinyoung nodded, flicking his eyes up to Jaebeom in a silent plea to do what was right.

“I think we should start at the very beginning then, when his majesty’s relationship with the Hunters and our Order fell into disarray. We’ve always known that he was not on our side, that he wanted us quashed for good, stomped on like vermin until none of us were left. Our King loved the Bureau, he did not love the Hunters and he still doesn’t.”

“That’s a lie! How—”

Jaebeom was sure that the King would have continued to shout and scream at him, damning him for all his so-called lies, but the man caught his gaze and faltered. A grin, one akin to a vengeful spirit’s, settled on Jaebeom’s face. The King settled down once again and Jaebeom revelled in the control he had, even if only temporarily.

“You schemed for so long, drew upon your most trusted advisors, to try and help you take the Order down. And then, the perfect opportunity presented itself, when you learned of the Crown Prince’s illegitimate son.” A rumble of murmurs echoed throughout the court, Jaebeom’s finger pointing directly towards the Crown Prince and Jackson, the little boy curling up in his father’s arms.

“It was perfect, every detail was meticulously planned; so you started rounding up orphans, those that society could not care less for, and you kidnapped them first. A stir was created amongst the Order, many were captured by the case. It wasn’t until you took Jackson away too that the Crown Prince called upon us to help.

“But, what I don’t understand now, is why? Why go through all that trouble to try and dismantle the Order? You’re the King, surely you could just have us all killed at the wave of your hand?” Jaebeom’s tone turned to one of exasperation, emotion leaking into his words as he clenched his fists, staring right up at the monarch as if he were some evil deity.

“Because,” the King began, diabolical chuckles leaving his lips and landing on the deathly silence like a stone cold boot, “You gave everything, for people who meant nothing. You failed in your drive to succeed, and now you will die by my hand. Don't be fooled into thinking you've won, Hunter Im.

“I created the perfect case, the perfect trap and downfall and now here you are, waiting to die.” The King’s grin made Jaebeom’s heart drop into the pit of his stomach, floundering there as it was swallowed up by the need to be heard, to be seen and  _ respected. _ Even if the man in front of him did not listen, he would shout until the truth was known.

“I won’t die, the story is not yet complete.”

“Go on then, finish your little fairy tale.” The King spat.

“You created this case then, to be so complex, so immaculate, that we could not solve it. But something happened, didn’t it? Something that you could not have foreseen—”

“The White Tiger.” Jinyoung whispered, Jaebeom halted his diatribe to smile and nod at him.

“Jackson was being protected, and when you tried to hurt him and take him away the White Tiger appeared to protect him.” Jaebeom’s voice was low, only talking to the King now as everything else faded into insignificance. “Things only got worse when one of your men was killed, on the banks of a river not far from the children. But you couldn’t find him, could you?”

“How did you—?”

“That would be classified information under the Order your Majesty, our methods are rather secretive.” Jinyoung intervened, getting up onto his feet as well and moving to stand next to Jaebeom with his arms folded across his chest. Jaebeom couldn’t help but chuckle, they had caught the King hook, line and sinker.

“Jackson managed to get away and that was when you left the other children to die, you didn’t care about them from the start, you just needed a first act before the main event. But when Jackson disappeared, everything crumbled. And, as we all know, words told to the sea will reach anywhere if you shout loud enough, which is why you found out about our triumph - and your failure - so quickly.” Jaebeom finished with a genuine smile, one that he would flash at clients as he walked away after a successful case, reserved only for when he knew the job had been done well.

“You do not know what you’re talking about, Hunter Im! You’re not going to leave this palace alive, you and your scheming lies and tricks, I won’t have it!” The King roared, rising from his seat once again and striding forward to the edge of his podium, making all of his guards seize their weapons once more. Jaebeom’s hand hovered over his dagger, knowing it was ill-suited to fight with against the dozens of guards, but it was all he had.

A sudden flash of red and gold lurched out of the crowd before anything could happen, before arrows were fired and swords unsheathed, the Crown Prince now standing before the King.

“Take one step further and my own guards will fire.”

The Crown Prince grit his teeth, speaking with a reddened face as he took to grabbing his own sword, a fine blade made from the purest of steel and bronze. It felt as if the whole room had been ripped of any sound at all, Jaebeom’s eyes scanning round as he watched the Crown Prince’s soldiers line up in front of the King’s men, ready to fight. Nobody spoke and nobody dared to breathe too loud, the tension too thick to move.

Jaebeom met Jackson’s gaze, the little boy shaking in his father’s arms as he tried to hold back his cries.

But then an arrow was fired, landing only feet away from the Crown Prince and Jackson burst into tears.

All at once, the court dissolved into chaos.

Jaebeom and Jinyoung simultaneously lunged forward, vying to protect Jackson and the Crown Prince as arrows were shot and swords drawn to bury into the hearts of men, egged on by the desire to cause bloodshed and pain.

“Appa! Appa!”

Jackson’s wails were deafening, even over the chorus of shouts and hurled insults, Jinyoung deflected arrow after arrow, gaze set heavy as he managed to shove Jaebeom out of the way of an incoming knife.

Jaebeom pounced at one of the guards who came too close, tackling him to the ground and stabbing his chest until blood stained his hands and adrenaline leached off of him.

The smell of sweat and blood and vengeance hung heavy, coating Jaebeom’s lungs with a want to destroy all those that had hurt the children. He wouldn’t let them get away with their crimes any longer.

Nobody noticed the light, the blinding whiteness that shone from the centre of the room. The fighting continued, but only for a moment, until the light consumed them all in a perilous flash.

“It’s here… Jinyoung, we have to go.”

But Jaebeom’s words were lost to the White Tiger’s roar, and he took to grabbing Jinyoung’s sleeve instead in a desperate attempt to escape the upcoming carnage. The White Tiger had appeared to protect Jackson from these men, but surely it would no longer know good from bad, all would perish if they did not make haste and leave.

Jinyoung seemed to understand, amongst the cries and screams for help, he pulled away from the crowd. But a firm hand on Jaebeom’s po stopped them both in their tracks.

“—Hunter Im! Hunter Im, you must take him, keep my boy safe. He can live a good life with you!”

The next few seconds blurred together until Jaebeom could not distinguish one movement from the next. But he picked up Jackson, curling his frame around the child as he disappeared from the court, feet stumbling down unfamiliar passages and far, far away from the light and the tiger and the bloodcurdling calls for mercy.

There was no such thing as mercy for men like those, however, not for men who destroyed lives as if they were nothing more than dirt.

Jinyoung led the way out, evading passing soldiers and armed marksmen, ducking underneath archways until the garden arrived in their field of vision.

“We must go, Jaebeom, we have to leave now.” Jinyoung heaved, tears streaking his face and Jaebeom almost reached out to brush them away. He did not know why the younger was crying, did not dare to ask, but Jinyoung was right, time was not on their side and the exit was within reach.

They passed a bed of Asphodels on their way out of the Palace grounds, Jaebeom grabbed a rock and destroyed them without a second thought.

➴

“I still think you should let me come with you guys, just so I can babysit this little cutie.”

“Junho, you can barely control Wooyoung, nevermind Jackson.” Jinyoung grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, cuddling Jackson tighter to his chest as the boy laughed at the funny faces Junho was pulling.

“But I’m literally his favourite person.” Junho tried to argue, sneering at Jinyoung who only laughed in response.

“No, you’re not, that would be me. Isn’t that right Sseunnie? I’m your favourite person.”

“Yes, you make tasty food.”

Junho couldn’t help but snort, in disbelief at where this kid's loyalties seemed to lie. But he guessed he couldn’t argue with him, Jinyoung did make really good food.

“What are you three laughing about, huh?”

A voice came from across the gaunde, Jaebeom striding over with an easy smile settled onto his features. These days, Jaebeom had relaxed a lot; after the King had disappeared under so-called  _ mysterious circumstances _ , the Crown Prince had been left to take over the throne. He had decided, for Jackson’s own safety, that he would remain under the custody of Jaebeom and Jinyoung, the Hunters having proved themselves to be trusted allies, and perhaps, more importantly, better suited to take care of the young boy than an overbearing Royal Court would have been. With the Hunters now accepted, and the Order’s respect restored, everything seemed to be falling into place just as it should be.

“Oh nothing, just about how I’m Jackson’s favourite person.” Jinyoung laughed quietly to himself, brushing through Jackson’s hair as the boy played with the small wooden toy horse that he had found at the market a day prior. After begging Jinyoung and Jaebeom for it, they had given in easily when he’d thrown a pair of well-placed puppy eyes their way. “How are all the children doing, Jaebeom?” He asked after a second, pulling out a chair so that the elder could sit with them.

“They’re all doing just fine, Mark is… Well apparently they’ve all taken to him and the rest of the Fae with ease, it seems that Mark is basically their uncle now.” Jaebeom chuckled and scratched the back of his head. He knew that his quick judgement of Mark and his ability to care for the children was rather curt and rude, so he had decided to give the Fae another chance. It had all worked out okay so far it seemed, which helped to settle Jaebeom’s head and heart.

“Have you ever considered… Going with them?” Jinyoung said, quickly glancing down to the feather that still hung loosely around Jaebeom’s neck; a symbol of all that he had once hidden, now out in the open for the world to see.

“I’ve never actually considered it at all, but I know that if we ever truly needed their help, then they’d be able to find us. Even if I still have qualms about being half Fae, I think, in time, it’ll get easier to accept.” Jaebeom said, reaching out to hold Jinyoung’s hand, only to grumble under his breath when the younger refused, instead clinging onto Jackson tighter.

“There’s no time for sappy sentiments, Hunter Im, we have to go.” Jinyoung said with a smug grin, even going as far as to wink at Jaebeom, who scoffed at his antics.

Once Jaebeom had sipped the last of his tea, both he and Jinyoung rose from their seats, bidding their goodbyes to Junho and then Rain, who sat solitary in the corner of the guande - but still waved back nonetheless. Everything was quiet, but not in a way that felt eerie nor isolating. But more, the calm sort of quiet that overtook you at the end of a hard day's work, where you could heave in a sigh and settle back knowing that you had done all you could.

Jaebeom clambered onto the horse and cart that was waiting for them, a few bags and satchels of luggage on board as he hauled Jinyoung and Jackson in too.

“You’re the ones headed south right, to the sea?” The driver asked them to which he received an affirmative hum from Jaebeom in return, not in the mood for speaking as he soaked up the last flickers of the late evening sun above them.

They set off with lighter, warmer hearts and Jaebeom managed to sneak in a kiss to Jinyoung’s cheek, giggling like a schoolboy when the younger - his lover now, he supposed - blushed at the action.

“I hope Youngjae got our letter, although I don’t think he’ll mind us turning up out of the blue either.” Jinyoung said, leaning against Jaebeom’s shoulder and watching as the guande disappeared from their view, the city melting into the horizon.

“I don’t think he will either, I’m sure him and Yugyeom will love the company for a while. It’ll just be nice to… Escape, for a bit. I think I’m done with hunting, at least for a month or two.” Jaebeom chuckled lazily, but his own thoughts were interrupted by another, a question he had been meaning to ask for so long now. It had been on the tip of his tongue for the two weeks since they had run out of the palace, but now seemed like a perfect time to finally ask.

“So… Jinyoung, what exactly was that Gumiho to you? What did you two do exactly?”

“That,” Jinyoung began, covering Jackson’s ears even though the boy was definitely on the verge of sleep, “Is a complicated question. I guess you could say he helped me out here and there.” He shot a sideways glance towards Jaebeom, narrow and knowing. “We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re wondering, but he did take my first kiss… And maybe also the second and third kisses too.” Jinyoung said with a bashful smile, watching as Jaebeom’s expression seemed to morph at a mile a minute before settling on one that resembled a grouchy child.

“Well, I’m not bothered, I’m going to be the only one kissing you now anyway.”

“I think you are bothered Jaebeomie, just a bit.” Jinyoung sang, pinching Jaebeom’s cheek. Had they not been in a moving cart, and had Jackson not been there, Jaebeom would have throttled Jinyoung - lovingly.

But as it stood, the world was peaceful, the stars starting to appear in the night sky as they made their way south. Jackson was asleep and safe, and Jaebeom was sure that the boy would appreciate his new life, far away from castles and royalty and danger.

“I love you, Jinyoung, thank you for trusting me.” Jaebeom whispered, pressing the smallest of kisses to Jinyoung’s lips before the younger pulled him closer to capture his lips once more, making sure Jaebeom never forgot how it felt to be loved so completely.

“I love you too, Jaebeom.”

Everything was calm, for a little while.

⚔️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from all of us: 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! it's been a wild ride for an incredibly interesting end-product, and we hope you enjoyed it ♡

**Author's Note:**

> our idiot's eden was created by a collective of JJP writers coming together to create a single story. 
> 
> each chapter is written by a different author and threaded together by a plot developed through the creativity of each person. 
> 
> follow the twitter thread from [here.](https://twitter.com/exosbebe/status/1329525153693376512?s=20)
> 
> updates each friday. on behalf of the writers, thanks for reading! we really hope you enjoy it.
> 
> ☽


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